


The Apples Fall Far on the Other Side of the Fence

by BlackCanine



Series: The Apples Fall Far [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dudley Dursley Has a Magical Child, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Redeemed Dudley Dursley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9835259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackCanine/pseuds/BlackCanine
Summary: Dudley Dursley has not seen an act of magic again ever since the Dursleys returned to number four, Prive Drive after spending almost a year in hiding. No matter if said acts of magic happen within his own home... right before his eyes... performed by his own children. It takes a letter written in bright emerald ink to take the blindfold off his eyes.





	1. The Blind Father

**Author's Note:**

> This is a spin-off on my Harry Potter's next generation story called _[The Apples Fall Far](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5549447/chapters/12799598)_ , which follows Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy's time at Hogwarts. It is not necessary to read that story to follow this one, but if you do, you should probably read chapter four of _The Apples Fall Far_ first so it doesn't spoil your reading.
> 
> I do not own the _Harry Potter_ saga or any of its characters. There is no profit gained from writing or publishing this story.
> 
> Disclaimer about the images: all edits were done with pictures found in Google, none of them belong to me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number eleven, Lilac Lane, are proud to say that they are perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number eleven, Lilac Lane, are proud to say that they are perfectly normal, thank you very much. They are the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just don’t hold with such nonsense.

Mr. Dursley is in charge of the sales department of a firm called Grunnings, which makes drills. He is a big, beefy man, tall and muscular, though quite bloated rather than fit, he has watery blue eyes and thick blond hair. Mrs. Dursley is lean and blonde with long wavy hair that cascades down her back. The Dursleys have two kids: a boy named Donovan and a younger girl called Brittany, and in their opinion there are no finer children anywhere.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley wake up on a dull, grey Tuesday morning. Nothing about the cloudy sky outside suggests that strange and mysterious things could happen. Mr. Dursley hums as he picks up his tie for work (the red one with bright orange dots, like every Tuesday), already eager for it to be over, as they’ll be celebrating Donnie’s eleventh birthday when he gets home.

In the mean time, there are papers to be signed and drill orders to approve, so, as he makes sure everything he needs is neatly arranged inside his briefcase, Mr. Dursley mentally goes over the numbers and figures that make up his job, while Mrs. Dursley tries to cajole Donovan into eating his oatmeal, promising him there will be chocolate cake when his daddy returns. That seems to motivate the boy to eat.

At half past eight, Mr. Dursley grabs his keys from the tray by the door, pecks Mrs. Dursley on the cheek and kisses Donovan on the top of his head before saying good-bye. If he hadn’t been running numbers, prices and budgets in his head, Mr. Dursley might have noticed the smudge on the corner of Donovan’s lips that looked suspiciously like chocolate fudge, but as it is, he misses it completely. Instead he makes an off-handed comment about the weather on his way out, hoping it doesn’t rain when he gets off from work, as he doesn’t want to be stuck on traffic on Donnie’s birthday.

As Mr. Dursley busies himself getting inside his car and backs out of number eleven’s drive, he never notices how the weather seems to have suddenly shifted, as there is not a cloud to be seen in the sky.

 

Mr. Dursley’s mind is still firmly on drills when he arrives at his office at nine o’clock sharp. His very important papers are there, waiting for his signature and if the mail girl down the hall comments about how strange it is that the overcast sky seemed to have cleared in the blink of an eye, Mr. Dursley doesn’t hear from the other side of his closed door. Instead, he yells at five different people, makes several important telephone calls and shouts a bit more. He is in a very good mood by lunchtime, when he decides to stretch his legs and walks across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery and ask if his son’s birthday cake will be ready by the time he gets off.

The weather remains amenable and no rain obstructs his drive home after he leaves his office at precisely five o’clock. When Mr. Dursley returns from work, Mrs. Dursley has already covered the living room walls with dozens of colourful balloons. Some of Donovan’s friends from school are there, playing with Donovan’s toy cars, while Brittany watches cartoons on the television.

“I’m home!” Mr. Dursley announces as he walks through the door. Donovan runs to greet him and Mr. Dursley ruffles the boy’s sandy brown hair.

“Did you have a good birthday at school?” Mr. Dursley asks as he herds his son back to the living room, making sure he blocks the boy’s view of his wife as she sneaks out of the house to fetch Donnie’s surprise birthday cake.

“Carl got me a toy robot!” Donovan exclaims, his face split by a big smile.

“A toy robot? How great is that!” Mr. Dursley replies and pats the little plump boy on his shoulders. His son is largely interested in astronomy and robotics, he loves the idea of sending rockets to space, even going as far as assuring anyone who wants to hear that one day he will work at the UK Space Agency, and he often loses himself talking about what could lie beyond the known universe. Little Donovan Dursley loves making up stories of fantastic beings from outer space, inhabiting planets much like Earth. Mr. Dursley finds it endearing, as he doesn’t think he’s got much imagination, but loves to see his son has it in spades.

“Alright, who wants cake?” Mrs. Dursley asks as she comes out of the kitchen holding the large chocolate cake Mr. Dursley bought. All the kids in the house cheer. As she walks to the living room table, she misses a toy car lying on the floor and steps on it, tumbling over and letting go of the cake.

“Jennifer!” Mr. Dursley exclaims as he rushes to catch his wife before she hits the floor, “are you okay?”

“Y — yes, I’m okay, Dudley, thank you,” Mrs. Dursley says as she steadies herself, before noticing everyone in the living room has gone speechless. Immediately realising mute children is absolutely not normal, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley look around for the cause of the kids’ silence.

“What is it?” Dudley asks. When no one answers, he and his wife let go of each other and look at the point where everyone’s stare is converging. Right on the living room table, the cake stands proud. It somehow landed there after Mrs. Dursley let go of it, completely unharmed.

“Oh, would you look at that?” Mr. Dursley says, “how lucky.” Jennifer wholeheartedly agrees and heads for the kitchen to look for a cake server.

 

Christmas arrives a week later. As the sun rises, kids from the houses in Lilac Lane take their new bicycles and roller skates out for a ride, while their mother’s discreetly size up the presents everyone else got, trying to determine if their kid got the best ones. At number eleven, Brittany Dursley shows her friend Livy her new doll, while Donnie has fun with the very expensive remote control robot Dudley bought for him. Meanwhile, Jennifer Dursley busies herself reading the morning news at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee. Dudley, for his part, stares numbly at his mug filled with steaming tea, completely lost in thought.

“You always get like this the day before, you know?” Jennifer tells him when she peeks over the newspaper to steal a glance at her husband’s pensive state.

“Hum?” Dudley asks distractedly.

“You always get all thoughtful the day before Boxing Day,” Jennifer elaborates, and of course that’s what Dudley was thinking about. Every year on Boxing Day, Dudley’s cousin Harry drops by with his family, stirring all sorts of memories from Dudley’s childhood.

“Oh? Oh, right, Harry’s coming tomorrow. Time flies, huh?” Dudley babbles, making Jennifer look at him with a fond expression.

“Whatever happened between you two, I’m sure he’s forgiven you,” she tells him, “he seems to be over it, you should too.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It’s just … this time of the year always gets me thinking about the past,” Dudley mutters.

“I’m sure it’s normal,” Jennifer assures him.

At that moment the doorbell rings and Brittany’s voice is heard from the living room.

“Livy’s mom’s here!” she yells and Jennifer leaves Dudley alone with his thoughts in the kitchen.

 

Later that day, the Dursleys celebrate Christmas attending the dinner party Dudley’s parents host in their house, at number four, Privet Drive, a few blocks from where Dudley and Jennifer live. Dudley’s mom, Petunia, greets them at the front door with a pleased smile and ushers them all inside, where Dudley’s dad, Vernon, is sitting on the couch watching the telly.

Vernon Dursley is a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he does have a very large moustache. Petunia is thin and has nearly twice the usual amount of neck, and her greying hair is almost always tied up in a tight bun.

As soon as Donovan and Brittany sit in the living room across from their grandpa, Petunia Dursley is instantly on them, pampering them with a tray of Chorley cakes and insisting they eat them at once. Donovan and Brittany eat them while sitting very still, careful not to let crumbs fall on the couch, as they know their grandma loathes crumbs.

“So, how’s everything, Dudders?” Petunia asks Dudley as she busies herself checking on the roast turkey she’s got in the oven and Jennifer unwraps the Yorkshire pudding she cooked, “I cannot tell you how terribly sorry we are for missing Donnie’s birthday last week, you know we dropped your aunt Marge at the airport and you won’t believe the incompetence of the people working there. Mountains of paperwork, just to get a tiny dog on a crate. I swear it’s like they’re being paid to be unhelpful.”

“I already told you, mum, don’t worry about it,” Dudley placates, “Donnie loved your presents.”

Truth is, Donnie hadn’t been that thrilled with the pair of boxing gloves he got from Vernon, nor with the tennis racket Petunia got him. Donnie’s grandparents have never approved the boy’s enthusiasm for science, specially astronomy, which Vernon always calls “a bunch of gibberish for airy-fairy dimwits”, and they’ve always tried to sway his interests to activities more appropriate for a proper Dursley boy, so far without any success.

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Petunia says happily, “now go make your father company, Jennifer and I got dinner covered.”

Dudley heads back to the living room where his dad, the director of the drill company where Dudley works, bombards him with questions about drills and order forms.

“Did you remember to call Flinkman before the start of the holidays?”

“Yes, dad, I called Flinkman, everything is running smoothly, drills are flying off the shelves,” Dudley reassures him. Opposite to them Donnie and Brittany have finished the Chorley cakes on the tray, and are sitting silently on the couch staring boringly at the adults.

“Dinner is almost ready,” Petunia says emerging from the kitchen, followed by Jennifer, “while we wait, why don’t we show the children their Christmas presents, Vernon?”

“Great idea, Petunia!” Dudley’s dad agrees energetically before lifting himself off the couch and heading to the closet by the entrance, from where he produces two large boxes covered in Christmas wrapping. “Here you go,” he says, “why don’t you open them?”

Donovan and Brittany eagerly tear the wrappings open, throwing the discarded paper on the living room floor, much to Petunia’s dismay. Brittany’s eyes light up in delight when she realizes what she got, Donnie on the other hand doesn’t look so thrilled.

“A dollhouse!” Brittany shrieks in glee.

“I’m so glad you liked it, honey,” Petunia says.

“Donnie? What did you get?” Dudley asks his son.

“It’s a rugby ball,” Donnie says, disenchanted. In his lap sits a somewhat large box with the picture of a rugby ball on it. Dudley’s heart breaks a little for his son because that’s the third sports-related gift he received from his grandparents in a week and they’re not trying to be subtle anymore.

“Do you like it?” Vernon asks eagerly, apparently oblivious to his grandson’s evident let-down, but Donnie puts a smile on his face in an instant and meets Vernon’s eyes.

“Yes, grandpa, thank you,” he says very politely.

“I’m glad you do. Maybe you and Dudley could play with it during the holidays,” Vernon suggests hopeful.

The sound of a car arriving is heard outside. Petunia immediately goes to the window and discreetly peeks through the curtains.

“It’s Mr. Rifkin arriving next door,” she informs everyone, “with Christmas dinner for his son. Of course, the wife must be off somewhere working and those two poor lads must have Christmas dinner on their own. Honestly, I cannot understand how some women stand to be apart from their children, I know I never could’ve done it.”

“What does Mrs. Rifkin do?” Donnie asks curiously, though some of his disappointment can still be heard in his voice, if you look for it. The boy is busying himself with opening the box that contains his new ball, probably because it’s the polite thing to do, Dudley thinks.

“Well, I don’t know, do I? But it does seem like her job demands her to travel a lot,” Petunia replies, still peeking out the window, “and it’s Mrs. Heatherington, she didn’t take her husband’s last name. I know because I saw her last name on the post that time the postman mixed up our addresses. I don’t know why you would get married if you’re not even planning on taking your husband’s name in the first pla —”

“Oh my God!” Donnie shrieks, interrupting his grandmother’s rant. Dudley immediately turns to his son in alarm, looking for signs of damage, finding none. Instead, Donnie is looking beyond himself with elation, holding what looks like a small telescope. “I can’t believe it, I love it!”

Jennifer huffs and turns to look at Dudley in amusement. Dudley looks back at his wife with equal enjoyment. Did his parents really get Donnie a telescope and stuffed it inside the box of a rugby ball? That sounded very far from the eldest Dursleys’ kind of humour, but Dudley can’t say he’s complaining.

Donnie carefully places the telescope on the table and rushes to hug his grandfather.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he says against Vernon’s neck. Vernon looks thoroughly dumbfounded, probably because shy little Donnie had never been so overt in his displays of affection, Dudley thinks. Donnie disentangles from his grandfather and runs to hug Petunia as well, who looks as befuddled as her husband.

"I — I’m glad you liked it,” Petunia stammers.

Donnie’s grin cannot be wiped off his face during the entire evening and Dudley couldn’t be happier for his son. He does find strange, however, the discussion in hushed voices he overhears outside his parents’ bedroom when he goes find them to say good-bye before he and his family go home.

“Maybe the people at Sainsbury’s made a mistake,” he hears Petunia say, “God knows that place is filled with incompetents.”

“But it was _inside_ the box,” Vernon counters, “Sainsbury’s employees are not supposed to open the boxes. And how did that ruddy thing even fit in that box?”

“Well, I don’t know, evidently somebody made a mistake, a mistake that delighted Donnie.”

“All that gibberish about the space and aliens and ships, it doesn’t do the boy’s head any good. I don’t like it,” Vernon grumbles.

“Nor do I, but what can we do? Tell him somebody made a mistake and take his telescope away from him?”

“No, of course not,” Vernon snaps, “we’ll just get him a rugby ball and give it to him for no reason.”

“Yes, that sounds good,” Petunia concedes, “maybe I can get in contact with his school, ask for his PE teacher to focus a little more on him.”

“Yes, yes, you do that,” Vernon agrees enthusiastically, as his wife opens her bedroom door and Dudley jumps several steps back, trying to look as if he just got there.

“Dudley!” Petunia exclaims.

“M — mum, hey, I was just coming up to tell you we’re leaving,” Dudley mumbles.

“Come on, I’ll see you guys out,” Petunia says as she ushers Dudley downstairs.

On his way down Dudley can’t stop thinking about the conversation he just overheard. He should’ve known his parents wouldn’t get Donnie a telescope, and he definitely will sit down with them to explain Donnie’s interest in astronomy is not going away anytime soon and maybe they should tone it down a bit, even if just for a while. Still, Dudley can’t believe what a lucky mistake it was that got Donnie just the perfect Christmas present.

 

His parent’s present to Donnie is still in Dudley’s mind the following morning, making him forget all about his cousin’s impending visit. It’s not until Jennifer asks him if his planning on receiving Harry in his undershirt that Dudley remembers it’s Boxing Day, and Harry should be there any moment. All the thoughts he dwelled on the day before rush back to his mind in full force.

As he buttons up his shirt’s sleeves, Dudley reflects on his relatives’ impending visit. Dudley Dursley has everything he wants, but he also has a secret, and his greatest fear is that somebody would discover it, specially his wife and kids. He doesn’t think he could bear it if they found out about the Potters. Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley don’t really have much contact, his yearly visits with his wife and his three children every Boxing Day are the only times they see each other, and that’s because Harry and his family are as un Dursleyish as it is possible to be. Dudley Dursley shudders to think what Jennifer would say if the Potters’ secret was revealed.

 

At ten o’clock in the morning the doorbell rings and Dudley opens the door to find his cousin, wearing an amicable smile, next to his wife and kids. Harry’s black hair is as wild and unruly as it’s ever been, and both his sons have inherited that particular trait, though only the youngest one got Harry’s emerald green eyes. Harry’s daughter Lily, though, takes after his wife Ginny: both sporting bright red hair, though Lily’s long and freely flowing below her shoulders and Ginny’s shorter and made up in a neat bun.

“Hey there, welcome,” Dudley greets them as he steps aside to let the Potters in.

The Potters’ visit is always awkward, many factors concurring to make the encounter borderline painful. First of all, there’s Dudley’s guilt. When they were younger, Harry lived with Dudley and his parents at number four, Privet Drive, but the relationship between the two cousins was far from ideal. Dudley bullied Harry to the point of brutality, and even encouraged his friends to do the same. It’s been a long path for Dudley, trying to atone for his faults as a kid, and having Harry over every year is part of it.

But then of course there’s Dudley’s big secret, which is actually Harry’s secret. Harry Potter is a wizard, as well as the woman he married and the three kids he had with her, and while Dudley is no stranger to magic, there is not a drop of magical blood coursing through his veins. In fact, Dudley didn’t know magic even existed outside fairy tales and movies until his eleventh birthday, when a pack of letters in their mailbox revealed his cousin Harry was a wizard.

Neither Jennifer nor Dudley’s children know about it, but this secret is a tough one to skirt around. The Potters make up entirely fictional lives to answer Jennifer and the kids’ casual questions, lives where Harry is a police officer at a small town in Devon and Ginny is a sport writer at a local newspaper. Never mind that Harry fumbled to explain to Donnie how to report a crime or that Ginny apparently had never heard of the words Manchester United.

And then there’s Harry’s kids, Dudley cringes when he thinks about Harry’s kids. The oldest one, James, always looks like he’s trying very hard not to stand on the living room table and shout “Magic exists, you people!”, and Lily occasionally blurts out words like “wand” or “potion”, making Dudley choke on his drink.

The middle one, Albus, is the only one who seems willing to keep the charade up, or who at least looks like he’s making an effort. The boy follows the Premiership religiously and he once even engaged Dudley in a heated debate during which Albus fiercely supported Chelsea against Dudley’s adherence to Manchester United. The kid is also an avid Exeter Chiefs fan when it comes to rugby.

Occasional sports debate aside, Harry Potter’s kids never look really happy to be there when they visit the Dursleys. When they were younger they were always on edge watching their tongues, careful not to reveal anything they oughtn’t, and now that they’re teenagers they simply look thoroughly bored.

“Did you have a safe trip?” Dudley asks as the Potters settle inside his living room and regrets his question immediately. It’s a three-hour drive from Devon to Surrey, but his cousin never arrives in a car and Dudley realises he doesn’t really want to know how he got to his house. An awkward grimace crosses his cousin’s face and lets Dudley know it was probably not the best question to ask, but Harry’s face is composed again in an instant and he flashes a polite smile at Dudley.

“Yeah, safe trip,” is all Harry answers.

“Good to know,” Dudley says clapping his hands awkwardly below his waist. Luckily, at that moment Jennifer emerges from the kitchen and saves Dudley from further embarrassment.

“Hey, there, welcome!” she greets cheerfully, “I’ve got some tea on the stove, let me get you some.”

“I’ll help!” Dudley volunteers immediately, following his wife as he calls upstairs.

“Hey, Donnie, Britt, your cousins have arrived, come down and say hello!”

When Dudley returns to the living room both his kids are already there, sitting opposite to Harry’s children, all of them in nearly sepulchral silence. Dudley and Harry exchange equally pained looks.

To Jennifer’s credit, she does some notable attempts at engaging everyone in conversation, which works out rather smoothly until she hits a topic that’s firmly in dangerous territory.

“So, Lily,” she says to Harry’s daughter, “you just started school this year, right?” Dudley immediately stiffens at the question. The redhead girl looks cautious as she nods timidly.

“Boarding school, right? Donnie’s going to boarding school next year too, I don’t know how I’ll cope,” Jennifer says.

“You get used to it,” Harry assures her, “it is certainly more peaceful.”

“Hey!” James protests, but his father merely raises an eyebrow, “yeah, you’re probably right about that,” James concedes.

“And what’s your favourite subject, Lily?” Jennifer asks.

“Defence —” Lily begins but shuts up immediately, her eyes wide open in alarm.

“Personal defence,” Albus jumps in, “They teach us personal defence.”

“Impressive,” Jennifer says and Dudley lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“I hope there’s none of that at Smeltings,” Donnie intervenes, “I don’t like sports.”

“Still planning on working at UKSA?” Harry asks and Donnie nods.

“What’s UKSA?” Albus asks.

 

After a few more failed attempts at conversation, Dudley suggests Donnie shows the Potter kids some videogames in his room, hoping with all his heart that Harry’s children know what a videogame is supposed to be. When it’s only the adults left, the conversation seems only a little more manageable, but still, it’s a relief when the visit is finally over.

“Your cousin’s kids are weird,” Donnie tells his father as he unwraps a chocolate bar in the kitchen after Harry and his family are gone, “it’s like they live under a rock or something.”

“Really?” Dudley asks dismissively, “hadn’t noticed.”

“DONOVAN DURSLEY, WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT LEAVING THE TELLY ON AFTER YOU’RE DONE PLAYING?” Jennifer’s voice can be heard from Donnie’s room. Donnie gives a startled jump at the scolding.

“Oh, never mind, it’s off now. I could’ve sworn it was on, it’s not even plugged,” Jennifer says from the floor upstairs, “you’re off the hook for now, but I better not find you eating those chocolate bars before dinner!”

Dudley huffs a laugh at how well his wife knows their son, but when he turns to look at him, the chocolate bar is nowhere to be found.

 

The following morning Dudley has put all thoughts of his cousin’s visit on the back of his mind, and he does not intend to think about him or his family or their secret for the rest of the year. Thinking of Harry only brings painful memories from his childhood, some make him feel remorseful, some make him feel angry and some others make him feel downright scared.

Dudley’s never cared much for magic, as every time he’s ever come in contact with it never ended well for him. Luckily for him, Harry respected his wishes of keeping his magic a secret from Dudley’s family, even if Dudley could tell his wife and kids struggled with covering up such a fundamental part of their lives. Dudley will always be thankful to the Potters for that, as he can go to sleep every night knowing his son and daughter will never live in a world where dragons exist or people can show up unannounced blasting through other people’s fireplaces.

He could not have been more wrong.

 

Dudley Dursley wakes up on a dull, grey Friday morning. Nothing about the cloudy sky outside suggests that strange and mysterious things could happen. Dudley hums as he picks up his tie for work (the turquoise one with a silly pattern, like every Friday), already eager for it to be over.

His wife has already taken the kids to school so Dudley finds himself alone in the house as he gathers everything he needs for work, mentally going over the specifics of a particular drill order he must approve. The sound of the mail slot clicking and of letters flopping onto the doormat pull Dudley out of his musings.

There’s not much of interest in that morning’s post: bills, catalogues, account statements of his credit cards. Something stands out from the rest of the letters, though. It’s a thick and heavy envelope, apparently made of yellow parchment, and the address is written in emerald-green ink. No stamp in sight.

Mr. D. Dursley  
Third Room down the Hall  
11 Lilac Lane  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

It takes Dudley a second to realise the letter is not addressed to him, that “D. Dursley” is not him but his son, as he’s the one who sleeps in the third room down the hall. It’s most disconcerting, that the sender wrote down where Donnie sleeps, it doesn’t sit right with Dudley, a faint sense of dread cursing through his spine. Vaguely, he remembers another instance of a letter that stated clearly where the intended recipient slept, it was one of those letters his cousin got…

Instinctively, Dudley opens the letter, tearing through the purple wax seal on the front without sparing it a second glance. A piece of parchment, much like the one the envelope is made of, comes out and Dudley suddenly knows why he was just thinking of his cousin’s letters not two seconds before.

“What the …”

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY  
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall  
( _Order of Merlin, First Class_ )

Dear Mr. Dursley,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Filius Flitwick,  
_Deputy Headmaster_


	2. Mimblewimble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first weeks after receiving his son's letter from Hogwarts, Dudley feels like he's going down the rabbit hole, or through the looking glass, or as it turns out, through a hole in a wall at the back courtyard of a pub.

“No, no, no,” Dudley pleads as his trembling hands struggle to hold onto the piece of parchment, “it can’t be, please, don’t let it be true, please.” His eyes pore over the letter over and over again, willing it to convey a different message but to no avail. The letter still displays the same coat of arms, the same words, the same damning message.

Dudley’s first instinct is to destroy he letter, to throw it into the fire or rip it to shreds, but a memory he had buried long ago resurfaces in his mind, one of thousands and thousands of letters erupting out of the fireplace at his parent’s home. He knows he can’t just get rid of the letter, they’d just keep coming.

Dudley’s knees bent so suddenly he must hold onto the door handle to keep himself from collapsing to the floor. He’s feeling dizzy, the inside of his house coming in and out of focus. He doesn’t remember feeling this dizzy since the time they cut his calorie count short when he was fifteen.

His eyes go back to the letter, shaking between his trembling fingers. “We await your owl no later than 31 July”. They’re expecting them to answer. It’s the 24th, the date is already upon them. Dudley doesn’t even know where he’s supposed to get an owl. It’s not like he has one like the one his cousin Harry had. Harry. The thought hits him so suddenly he can’t believe it didn’t occur to him sooner. His cousin would know what to do.

He runs to the small table in the living room where the phone is, and rummages throw the top drawer until he finds a small piece of paper with his cousin’s number on it. He dials it, his fingers moving so fast he must start over because he punches the wrong numbers the first time. The beep that lets him know the call connected sounds a couple of times, but there’s no answer. It rings some more, still nothing.

“Come on, come on, come on,” Dudley urges the phone as he bounces on the balls of his feet. Finally, a voice can be heard at the other end of the line.

“Hello!” Harry Potter’s voice says and Dudley lets out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, Ha —” Dudley begins, but is cut off by his cousin’s voice.

“You’ve reached the Potters. We’re not home, leave your message after the beep and we’ll call you back,” Harry says, followed by a long beep.

“Bloody hell, Harry!” Dudley curses, before hanging up.

 

The rest of the day flies by in a blur. Dudley goes on autopilot about most of his affairs. He barely pays attention on his way to work, he remembers so little about the drive to Grunnings he might as well have teleported inside his office.

His secretary Kathleen drops by with some very important papers he must sign right away, but he can’t for the life of him decipher what they are about. His poor secretary looks frightened but says nothing as he blankly hands her the signed papers. She decides not to tell him he signed on the wrong place, nor that in one of the pages the words “that ruddy tail” appear instead of his signature. She decides that approving an order of three thousand of Grunning’s most expensive drills can wait for another day.

Dudley is still going through the motions when he gets back to number eleven, Lilac Lane. He throws his coat on the key tray by the door and his keys fall to the floor when he attempts to hang them on the coatrack. He doesn’t bother picking them up.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jennifer notes during dinner, which Dudley has barely touched, “everything okay?”

It takes Dudley a second to come out of his stupor and answer his wife.

“Huh? Oh, yes, yes, dinner’s delicious, honey,” he hurries to answer. Donovan and Brittany exchange puzzled looks before turning expectantly to their mother, who raises a reproachful eyebrow but lets it slide, for the time being.

Dudley’s mind keeps racing through multiple scenarios, each more frightening than the last. What if the letter isn’t a mistake, what if Donnie really is like his cousin Harry? What if they can’t stop those people from taking him away? His dad couldn’t outrun them in time, but what if they manage to escape to another country? God, what are they going to tell his parents? The mere thought of that conversation unsettles Dudley so much he doesn’t even register the doorbell ringing and Jennifer standing up to get the door. He vaguely hears something about why are Dudley’s keys on the floor.

“Good evening. My name is Professor Terence Higgs, may I come in?” a grave voice reaches Dudley as if it came from a tunnel.

“Dudley?” Jennifer asks, making Dudley snap out of his angst riddled trance.

“Huh?” he asks as he blinks dumbly.

“A man is here, he says he wants to talk about Donnie,” Jennifer tells him, and the same dread Dudley felt that morning courses again along his spine, making his skin crawl.

All four Dursleys assemble inside their living room, sitting across from their visitor. Professor Terence Higgs is tall and lean, in his forties, still retaining some boyish good looks with his dirty blond hair and green eyes. He’s dressed in a perfectly tailored grey suit, with impeccably shined black shoes. If Dudley ran into him on the street, he would never guess there’s anything out of the ordinary with the man, but the chill in his spine tells him otherwise.

“Good evening,” Higgs repeats once all four Dursleys have seated on the couch, “the reason of my visit is to talk to you about your son’s academic future, and to offer him a place at the school where I teach.”

“So you’re not one of Donnie’s teachers at his school,” Jennifer notes, “how do you know of him? Are you from Smeltings?”

“No, I am not,” their visitor says, “the school I work for is called Hogwarts School of —”

“Don’t,” Dudley cuts him of with a warning bark. “Donnie is going to Smeltings,” he adds with a final tone. Higgs nods politely at the interruption before speaking again.

“I’m sure when you hear my offer —”

“We’re not interested,” Dudley interrupts again, “Donnie is going to Smeltings.”

“Dudley, honey, let him talk. I know you want Donnie to attend yours and your father’s school, but let’s hear what he has to say,” Jennifer says, but Dudley goes pale at the prospect of the other man explaining the existence of magic to his wife and kids.

“N — no, no,” he utters in a trembling voice, “we’re not interested,” he repeats again, his voice merely a whisper now.

“Sir,” Professor Higgs says, “have you heard of Hogwarts before?”

If possible, Dudley turns even paler, his lip trembles even if he can’t make them pronounce an answer.

“Honey?” Jennifer asks, “do you know of this school?” then she turns to the professor, “what is this school exactly?”

“Hogwarts is Britain’s school of —”

“Don’t say it!” Dudley bellows.

“Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Higgs finishes at last. Donovan and Brittany gasp, Jennifer turns at Dudley with a mixture of shock, incredulity and annoyance.

“Of what?” she asks Dudley.

“Your son, Donovan, possesses a rare and precious gift: he’s got magic.” Higgs says calmly.

“THAT IS NOT TRUE!” Dudley shouts, standing up from his place on the couch pointing an accusing finger at Higgs. Both Donovan and Brittany jump startled on their seats.

“Dudley, please calm down, you’re scaring the kids,” Jennifer says before turning to Higgs, “and what do you mean magic?”

“Magic exists,” Professor Higgs explains calmly, as if the man before him wasn’t well on his way to a nervous breakdown, “there is a large community of wizards and witches within nearly every society in the world. In the case of Britain, it is governed by the British Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts is the school that teaches young kids with this gift how to use their magic.”

“That … is absolutely insane,” Jennifer says, increasingly furious. “Listen, sir, I don’t know who you think you are, or if there are parents that actually fall for this madness, but if you think we’re sending son away under this ridiculous pretence —”

“Of course, when it comes to children born outside magical families, proof is always necessary,” Higgs says, interrupting the Dursleys for the first time that evening. The professor takes out long wooden stick from his pocket, making Dudley, who had taken his seat back on the couch, jump with surprising agility so he’s standing on the cushions.

“Put that thing away. PUT THAT THING AWAY!” he bellows, before climbing off the couch and putting himself between the man and his family, “you are not using that thing inside my house.”

Visibly disturbed by the man’s fear and obvious knowledge of magic, Professor Higgs takes a moment to get his distress under control before turning to the living room table and pointing his wand at it. A moment later, the table is nowhere to be seen, but a large ornate fountain with thick spurts of water coming out of it is taking its place instead.

Donovan and Brittany gasp loudly, Jennifer’s mouth is slack open and it takes a moment for Dudley to register that the man caused no harm to him or his family. Instinctively, his hands shoot down to his backside.

“As I said,” Higgs says as he calmly transfigures the fountain back into a table, “magic exists, and your son is one of the few that possesses this rare gift.”

“Is that what it is?” Donovan asks, speaking for the first time, “magic?”

“W — what are you talking about, Donnie?” Dudley asks, cautiously sitting back on the couch.

“Sometimes, when I really wish something, I can make it happen. Like one day when I didn’t want to go to aunt Marge’s, it began to rain really hard,” Donovan explains.

“I remember that day,” Jennifer says, “what a crazy storm that was, it kept us locked inside the house.”

“But how do you know it was you?” Dudley asks, “and not just a coincidence.”

“I can’t explain it,” Donovan replies, “I just knew I had somehow made it rain, it’s like I felt it, I don’t really know how to say it.”

“I told you we were special,” Brittany intervenes, making Dudley choke on his own spit.

“We? What do you mean ‘we’?” he asks.

“Sometimes the same thing happens to me, like one time when Livy stole my doll and then it appeared back inside my dollhouse,” the blonde curly-haired girl replies, to Dudley’s complete shock, “does that mean I get to go to the magic school too?”

“You need to be eleven years old. But if you are magical too, you will get your letter when the time comes,” Professor Higgs answers.

“So what exactly is this place?” Jennifer asks, “this school of magic.”

“Hogwarts is one of Europe’s largest and most important schools of magic, and the one that educates wizards and witches all across Britain. It is a boarding school, and takes in students for seven years, during which they learn to hone and use their magic.”

“What do you teach?” Donovan asks with curiosity.

“Potions,” Higgs answers.

“Potions,” Jennifer repeats sceptical, “what exactly do they teach kids at that school?”

“We have several core classes: Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions. There are also some electives students can take, like Divination or Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Care of Magical Creatures?” Brittany asks excited.

“And what are they supposed to do with that? Let’s say we send Donnie there, what is he supposed to do for a career? What is he supposed to do for a living?”

“The possibilities are almost infinite. Muggles, that is people without magic, have doctors, police officers, politicians, journalists, shopkeepers, bankers. We have our our versions of those, some with different names, but in essence, the career opportunities are the same as in muggle society.”

“Muggles?” Jennifer asks and Higgs nods, “so my husband and I are muggles?”

“That is correct.”

“And what if we don’t want to send him there?” Dudley asks.

“Dad!” Donovan whines.

“It is not compulsory for parents to send their kids to Hogwarts, they can choose to educate them at home or send them to a different magic school abroad. But somehow, I doubt you’re referring to any of those options.”

“That’s right,” Dudley says.

“You want your son to continue his muggle education.”

“Yes.”

“I would advise against it. We cannot force you to send your son to Hogwarts, but I should warn you, your son possesses power that is right now beyond his understanding and control. Wizards’ magic develops as they grow, and without proper guidance, he could become a danger to himself and those around him. At Hogwarts, he will learn not only to control his magic, but to exploit it and expand it,” Higgs tells Dudley.

“How did you even know our son has magic in the first place?” Jennifer asks, “isn’t it possible you made a mistake?”

“I don’t think they did, mom,” Donovan ventures timidly.

“At Hogwarts we have an enchanted quill and a book. Whenever a baby born in Britain exhibits signs of magic for the first time, his or her name is written on that book. Donovan’s name was written by the quill, and so a letter was addressed to him informing him of his acceptance,” Higgs explains.

“I got a letter?” Donovan asks turning to his father, who has regained a little colour but is still wary of the whole situation happening in his living room. Dudley gives the faintest of nods. “Can I see it?”

Reluctantly, Dudley pulls out the envelope from his jacket pocket and hands it to his son, who opens it and reads, his face filled with bewilderment.

“It really is true,” Donovan breathes out. “I’m — I’m a wizard.”

“That you are,” Professor Higgs agrees, “you will find all pertinent information on that letter, and this is your ticket to Hogwarts,” the teacher hands Donovan a train ticket, “the Hogwarts Express departs from King’s Cross station at London on September first.”

After giving Donovan his ticket, Professor Higgs stands up and addresses the Dursleys.

“Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley. I hope to see your son at the beginning of the term. This is a good thing for him,” he tells the Dursleys and heads to the door. Jennifer stands up to walk him out, as her husband seems to have lost his motor skills.

 

After wrestling both they overexcited kids into bed, which that night becomes possibly the hardest task Dudley and Jennifer Dursley have ever performed, Jennifer beckons her husband to follow her into their bedroom before locking the door once they walk in.

“Alright, talk,” Jennifer says.

“What are you talking about?” Dudley asks.

“You do realise it wasn’t that man turning our living room table into a fountain what convinced me magic is real, but the way you behaved the whole time he was in our house.”

Dudley casts his eyes down ashamed, unsure of what to tell his wife.

“How do you know about all this? How did you know about that school?”

“My cousin Harry,” Dudley mumbles at last.

“I’m sorry?”

“My cousin Harry,” Dudley repeats, louder this time, “he’s a — he’s a wizard.” Dudley realises he doesn’t remember when was the last time he said that word out loud, or if there had even been a first time to begin with.

“Your cousin Harry?” Jennifer asks, and husband and wife remain in silence for a moment before Jennifer barks a laugh. “Oh, well, that explains why he doesn’t seem to have a clue about how to answer the kids’ questions about being a cop. And I’ve never bought for a second his wife is a sports writer.”

“I honestly don’t know what they do for a living,” Dudley says, “all I know is he’s kind of loaded.”

“What exactly happened between your cousin and you?” Jennifer asks, “why were you so scared when that man took out his wand?”

Dudley pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure of where to start.

“It’s kind of a long story.”

“And we’re not going to bed until you tell it,” Jennifer warns him.

“Harry got a letter when he was eleven. A big man with a pink umbrella gave it to him and told him he’s a wizard.”

“So your cousin Harry went to this Hogwarts place,” Jennifer says and Dudley nods. “You were so scared of that man, Dudley.”

“Whenever a wizard comes through my door it never ends well for me. The man with the pink umbrella gave me a pig tail, a literal pig tail coming out of my rear. Then a bloody toffee made my tongue swell until it was four feet long, and one time those people blasted the fireplace at my parent’s house. And I haven’t even mention the invisible monsters that almost killed me when I was fifteen.” Dudley is forced to stop when he’s all of of breath, then he deflates, collapsing onto his bed. “Then there’s the war.”

“The war?” Jennifer asks scandalised.

“There was a war between their lot, normal people, muggles, as they call us, never knew about it, but people died and those invisible monster things were there, and from what I gather, kids in their teens fought in it. I don’t know the specifics, all I know is Harry had my parents and me go into hiding for nearly a year. We spent months locked in with some wizards, and they had this wireless where they got their news, and it was all deaths and missing people.”

“But the war is over, right? I mean, Harry drops by every year and he got married and had a family,” Jennifer says, mostly trying to appease herself from the terrible images her husband is painting.

“I reckon it is, I never really asked Harry, but one day the wizards we were staying with told us it was safe to go back home. When we did the house looked like it had been robbed, I think there were people looking for Harry and that’s why we had to hide in the first place. The wizard just waved his wand and everything was back in its place again. It was years before I even heard of Harry again.”

After excruciatingly long moments of silence, during which Jennifer digested everything Dudley said, she finally spoke.

“I want to speak with your cousin Harry,” she tells Dudley, “I’ve got a hundred questions and I keep coming up with more. Tell him to come.”

“I tired calling him earlier today when Donnie’s letter appeared in the post, but it went straight to voicemail. I’ll try again tomorrow,” Dudley says.

“Alright. Let’s go to sleep now, it’s been a long night,” Jennifer says.

“Long night indeed,” Dudley agrees.

 

Dudley has no luck getting in touch with Harry the following day, nor the day after that. September first is quickly approaching and they still have no idea if they’re letting Donovan go to Hogwarts or not. The kids don’t make it any easier.

“My name’s been written on their books since I was born!” Donovan complains, “it’s basically my birth right!”

“What happened to being a rocket scientist, huh? What happened to working at UKSA?” Dudley challenges.

“But I am a wizard!” Donovan exclaims, “that kind of trumps UKSA.”

“Does this mean I won’t be allowed to go either?” Brittany joins in.

“We don’t even know yet if you’ve got magic,” Dudley reminds her.

“I know I do,” Brittany retorts crossing her arms, “and when my letter comes next year, we better not be having this argument.” Dudley hangs his head.

Even if they do allow Donnie to attend Hogwarts, there’s still a long list of supplies and books they need to get before September first and Dudley has no idea of where he’s going to get them. He vaguely remembers Harry going to London to get his stuff, but London is a big city, and he doubts he can find magic wands on the yellow pages. He really needs to speak to Harry.

“Parents are reminded first years are not allowed their own broomsticks,” Jennifer reads, “what does that even mean?”

“Harry had a flying broomstick, not that I ever saw him fly on it,” Dudley answers.

“And what on Earth is a howler and why can’t we mail it to our kids?”

“Beats me.”

“Dudley, you have to get in touch with your cousin!” Jennifer reproaches.

“I know!”

 

On August 19, the call finally doesn’t go to voicemail.

“Hello?” Harry’s voice says, but this time it’s not a cheerful greeting, but a question. Dudley feels like he can finally breathe.

“Harry! Finally! I’ve been calling for days. I really, really need your help,” Dudley says in a distressed voice.

“D — Dudley?” Harry asks dubiously from the other end.

“Yes! It’s me. Harry, I need your help. Donnie got a letter. A letter! And then a man showed up and turned the table in our living room into a fountain. I’ve really got no idea of what to do. You need to help me,” Dudley says frantically in one breath, tripping over his words.

“Wait, calm down, Dudley, what are you talking about?”

“A letter! Donnie got a letter!” Dudley shrieks, wishing Harry was there so he could smack him into understanding, but he has to settle for the silence that comes from the other end of the line.

“Harry? Did you hear me? I said my Donnie got a —”

“A letter from Hogwarts,” Harry finishes for him.

“Yes! A letter from … from that place,” Dudley says lamely.

“Please, tell me you’re didn’t do anything irrational, like keeping him from getting his letter,” Harry says slowly, and Dudley can hear the warning tone in his voice.

“I didn’t!” Dudley exclaims immediately, his free hand travelling instinctively to his backside, “plus, a man showed up to talk to us about your school, he says he teaches there. But we still have a thousand questions.”

“Do you want me to go over there? I could drop by if you want,” Harry offers at last and Dudley’s chest untightens a little.

“Yes!” he accepts immediately, “please come over here.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Harry says before hanging up the phone.

 

Harry really did mean a minute, as Dudley’s barely hung up the phone when the doorbell rings. Dudley braces himself for literally opening the door to magic, but the sight that greets him on the other side of the door is his cousin dressed in plain slacks and a shirt.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for days now,” Dudley says as he pulls Harry inside the house.

“We went on a family vacation to Japan, and then I dropped Al at a summer camp. We haven’t really been home,” Harry explains. Japan? Really? They really must be loaded, Dudley thinks.

“Well I’m glad the call connected today,” he says as he guides Harry to the living room, “Jennifer will be back shortly with Donnie and Brittany.”

Dudley heads to the cabinet where he keeps his liquor and breaks open a bottle of scotch. He pours two glasses and gulps one down in one go before offering the other to Harry.

“You know, there’s no need to act like some tragedy happened,” Harry points out as he takes the glass from his cousin.

“But it did!” Dudley exclaims.

“Dudley …” Harry says in what Dudley is beginning to recognise to be his cousin’s warning tone, which unsettles him a little, so he hastens to explain.

“It’s not the fact that he’s got … magic or whatever, alright? That _maybe_ I could deal with, I mean, you’re not the freak mom and dad always said you were, and I lived nearly a year with some of your lot and they weren’t that bad. Confusing, really, but not bad.”

“Then what is it?” Harry asks.

“I’m going to lose him! Mom always said her sister basically became a stranger after she went to your school and you essentially disappeared from our lives except for the holidays. I can’t — I can’t tell my wife we’re not going to see our son again!” Dudley can feel tears gathering in his eyes but he does his best to keep them at bay. To distract himself, he pours himself another glass of scotch.

“Dudley,” Harry says putting a hand on his shoulder, “you didn’t want me in your lives and I didn’t want to be in them either, it’s not gonna be the same with your son.” Well, when you put it like that. Still, Dudley doesn’t feel like there’s any guarantee.

“How can you know that?” he sobs.

“Because you love Donnie and Donnie loves you. You are not going to lose him. Now, why don’t you leave the scotch alone and drink some tea instead? You don’t wanna be drunk when Jennifer comes home.”

Dudley lets Harry take the bottle and the glass from his hands and does his best to stop his lip from trembling.

“He won’t leave us behind?” he asks meekly.

“My best friend is muggle-born, and she keeps in touch with her parents all the time. We all go to their house every summer and this year her parents even went with us to Tokyo,” Harry tells him, “you’re not going to lose your son unless you push him away.”

“I won’t, I swear. I won’t do the things dad did to try to make you normal. I just don’t get how did this even happen.”

“Surely there were signs, every magical child shows signs of magic from an early age. Hey, remember that time at the zoo?”

“When you set a snake on me?” Dudley asks, not at all reassured.

“I was trying to free a caged animal, I wasn’t thinking about you,” Harry laughs, “but anyways, things like that always happen with kids, there must have been something Donnie did.”

Dudley thinks back to the day Donnie got his letter, and how he swore he had made it rain that one time.

“Donnie says there were, but I swear I never noticed one.”

“Maybe there were signs that happened before your eyes, only you weren’t willing to acknowledge them or you tried to explain them away,” Harry suggests, and Dudley can’t do anything else but agree.

“I suppose,” he mumbles, “I truly don’t know. And now Brittany swears she can make magic too, she is sure she’ll get a letter next year.”

“Well, we can’t know for sure until next year,” Harry tells him.

“She swears a friend of hers stole her doll but it somehow appeared inside her dollhouse later that day.”

“That could be magic,” Harry concedes, “you’ll know for sure when she gets her letter.”

“Then we would be sending both our kids away,” Dudley says.

“You were planning on sending them to Smeltings anyways,” Harry points out.

“I suppose you’re right,” Dudley agrees defeated.

 

When Jennifer comes home with both Donovan and Brittany in tow, Dudley is on his third cup of tea, which he keeps pouring to keep himself from bringing out the scotch again.

“Harry!” Jennifer greets, relief visible on her face, “so glad to see you.”

Meanwhile, the kids run to meet Harry and Donovan announces with a shout: “I am a wizard!”

“I know, I know,” Harry laughs, “your dad was just telling me.”

“And I am a witch,” Brittany states firmly.

“We don’t know that yet,” Dudley reminds her.

“I do,” is all his daughter has to say on the matter.

“Kids, why don’t you go upstairs and play some videogames for a bit while daddy and I talk to Harry?” Jennifer says.

“But —” Donovan begins to protest.

“You heard your mother,” Dudley cuts him off, “go upstairs.”

Visibly down about it, both Dursley kids head for the stairs and leave the adults alone in the living room.

“I am so glad you could come,” Jennifer tells Harry as she sits across from the couch where Dudley and Harry have seated, “we have like a million questions.”

“I’m happy to help,” Harry replies.

“Tell me about this place, Hogwarts,” she asks.

“We know it’s a school of magic, and we know it’s a boarding school, the man that came here explained to us that much,” Dudley says.

“But I’d like to know, for starters, where it is located,” Jennifer says,

“Hogwarts is a castle in Scotland,” Harry begins, “it takes in kids at the age of eleven and gives them education for seven years.”

“And we won’t be able to see our son but once a year,” Jennifer asks.

“Kids can go back to their homes for Christmas and Easter,” Harry replies.

“You never came back for Christmas,” Dudley tells him.

“I think you know why,” Harry counters. “Look, don’t use my experience with your parents as a yardstick, muggle-born children don’t usually lose contact with their families once they go to Hogwarts.”

“What about safety?” Jennifer asks, “Dudley tells me there was a war.”

“The war ended over twenty years ago,” Harry tells her before turning to Dudley, “that’s why you guys could return to Privet Drive.”

“You must understand, Dudley doesn’t paint the best picture of this magical world you live in,” Jennifer says.

“Dudley had some bad experiences, mostly due to people that were, are, very protective of me. That doesn’t mean the wizarding world is any more or any less dangerous than the muggle world.”

“And I take it you’re not really a cop,” Jennifer states, not really a question.

“I’m the wizarding equivalent of one, we’re called Aurors.”

“And Ginny?” Dudley asks, “what does she really do?”

“She actually is a sports journalist, only she covers mostly Quidditch, don’t ask her anything about the Premiership.”

“Quidditch?” Jennifer asks.

“It’s the most popular wizarding sport, though not the only one.”

“I don’t know,” Jennifer sighs, “I just don’t know.”

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Harry says, “but is there really a choice?”

“The man that came here the other night said they can’t force us to send Donnie to that school,” Dudley immediately replies.

“Sure, no one can force you, but think about this: you know all the strange things that happened around me when we were kids, the glass at the zoo, that time with Marge. They’re going to keep happening around Donnie, and maybe even Brittany too, from what you tell me, and it’s going to become progressively harder to control. Uncontrolled magic is dangerous, for them and for those around them”.

“So there really is no choice,” Dudley says disheartened.

“Well, after they’ve been taught to use and control their magic, they can always choose to go back to live the muggle way, but very few choose that.”

Silence befalls the living room, during which Dudley contemplates for the first time sending Donnie to that school that both fascinated him and frightened him when he was a kid. Though he knows a lot of what he believes about magic and magical people is distorted by either his parents, his personal experience and his own imagination.

“Alright, so let’s say we send Donnie to this school. We don’t even know where we’re supposed to get half the things they ask for in that supply list they sent. None of them, really,” he says at last.

“I can help with that,” Harry says with a grin.

 

Harry agrees to take all four Dursleys to Diagon Alley the following Friday. Donnie and Brittany are allowed to return to the living room, where they bombard Harry with several more questions. That night, after the kids finally let Harry go, Dudley braces himself for the conversation he is sure he’s about to have with his wife. He knows her well enough to know what she’s going to ask.

“There is one thing I still don’t understand,” she tells him as they get ready for bed, “you said your parents took Harry in because his parents died, but you keep saying you and your parents were horrible to him, and today Harry sort of confirmed that. It doesn’t add up.”

“I never really explained why I was horrible to him, did I?”

“You said you were a bully when you were a kid,” Jennifer says.

“And I was, but there’s more to it”, Dudley says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, gathering his thoughts to decide where to start. “My mum’s sister, she was a witch too, she got her letter from Hogwarts when she turned eleven just like Donnie did. Mum says she was never the same after that. She married someone of their lot, someone she met at Hogwarts, and they had Harry. Mum and dad never spoke to them.”

“But why?”

“I think mum was envious, but I don’t know for sure, and she’d kill me if I dared to ask her. Dad simply hates anything that’s not normal, so they pretended Harry and his parents didn’t exist. Until my mum’s sister and her husband were murdered.”

“Murdered?” Jennifer asks in shock, “Dudley! You never said they were murdered!”

“Harry was barely over a year old,” Dudley continues, “he was left on my mum’s doorstep by one of their lot, my parents took him in.”

“God, how horrible,” Jennifer sighs.

“My parents knew what he was, what he would become, so they treated him horribly. I don’t know, I reckon in their minds they thought they could beat it out of him or something, but what they did to him was downright abuse.”

“What did they do to him?” Jennifer asks, not entirely sure she wants to know.

“They starved him, hit him, acted like he didn’t exist or spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room. He didn’t even have a bed, he slept inside a cupboard under the stairs.”

“Dudley!” Jennifer exclaims horrified, “I — you — that’s — terrible doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

“I know. And the worst part was me, though. They taught me to hate Harry, I learned to see him as nothing more than a punching bag. While they mistreated him, they spoiled me rotten. I was a sloth, a bully, a glutton, and I was so stupid, Jen. If you’d known me then, you wouldn’t have come near me.”

Dudley is close to tears now. He’d never talked to anyone about his childhood with his parents and his cousin. He never really spoke about how rotten he’d become. Jennifer knew, since the first time Harry visited them on Boxing Day, that Dudley was trying to make up for everything he did when they were kids, but Dudley had always skirted over the details. He was ashamed, and dreaded Jennifer’s reaction if she ever knew the kind of person he used to be.

“You’re not that kid anymore, Dudley,” Jennifer says taking a seat next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “we’ve talked about this, you’re not a bully anymore.”

“You never really knew what I was talking about, the extent of it, how far I went. And my parents, they really tried to break him,” Dudley sobs, immersed in guilt. Now that it’s out in the open, it’s like a dam burst open and he’s drowning.

“But they didn’t,” Jennifer says, “you just saw him today. He may be a bit odd, but he doesn’t look broken to me. He’s got a lovely family, he seems like he’s doing alright.”

“It doesn’t — it doesn’t change the things I did.”

“I don’t hold you responsible for that,” Jennifer says, “from what you’re telling me, you were abused too.” Dudley raises an eyebrow and stares in surprise at his wife.

“A man showed up on our doorstep one day,” he says, “I think he was the headmaster of Harry’s school, and possibly the only wizard who visited us that didn’t wreak havoc on our house. He chided my parents for how they treated Harry, but he also said he was glad Harry escaped the damage they inflicted upon me. I never really understood what he meant by that.”

“They tried to beat Harry’s magic out of him, but it sounds like they also tried really hard to strip you of your humanity,” Jennifer says, conflicted. Dudley knows Jennifer had always had a good relationship with his parents, specially his mum, and is having trouble reconciling the image she has of them in her head with the story Dudley just told her. After a few moments, her eyes turn steely cold and Dudley knows she’ll never see his parents the same way again.

“But they didn’t,” she says at last, looking at him straight in the eye, “they tried to take your humanity away, and just like your cousin’s magic, it endured. Look at the kind of parent you are, you’re amazing. You could’ve pushed Donnie to follow your footsteps and go into boxing, but you let him go to that science camp instead, even if half the time you don’t even understand what he’s talking about. And I see how hard you try to mend things with Harry. They didn’t win, Dudley. And Harry seems to have forgiven you, maybe you should too.”

Dudley mulls over Jennifer’s words for some time and he wonders if she’s right; if his mom and dad really did something as horrible as dehumanizing him like Jennifer said, if he really did pull himself up, if Harry has actually forgiven him and, most of all, if he truly deserves it.

“Come on, hon, let’s get to sleep,” Jennifer says after the silence has reigned for too long, and nudges him to get on his back. Dudley reluctantly lets himself be laid against the mattress.

“Don’t think about it anymore, think about your kids, try to remember you’ve done right by them,” she tells him, and as he closes his eyes, Dudley tries to do just that.

 

Friday arrives and the Dursleys get inside their car and to meet with Harry in London. The whole drive to London Dudley keeps his son’s supply list clutched in his hand and every time he hits a stop he picks the crumpled piece of parchment and stares at it in disbelief.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM  
First year students will require:  
1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
Please note all pupil’s clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of the following:  
_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1_ , by Miranda Goshawk  
_A History of Magic_ , by Bathilda Bagshot  
_Magical Theory_ , by Adalbert Waffling  
_A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ , by Emeric Switch  
_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ , by Phyllida Spore  
_Magical Drafts and Potions_ , by Arsenius Jigger  
_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_ , by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT  
1 wand  
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
1 set of glass or crystal phials  
1 telescope  
1 set of brass scales  
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS AND THAT MAILING HOWLERS TO STUDENTS IS NO LONGER PERMITTED

What is his son about to get into?

The Dursleys meet Harry at a busy street in the heart of London, and Harry takes them to a pub that materialises before their eyes the second Harry points it out to them. The pub is filled with the kind of people Dudley’s mother has always disapproved of, and all of them seem to know Harry.

Harry leads them to the back of the pub, out into a small walled courtyard, then he uses his wand to tap three times on what seems like a very specific brick on the wall, making a hole appear on it, which grows wider and wider until the wall becomes an archway that leads to a very long and very busy cobbled street.

Dudley can barely keep track of everything Diagon Alley has to offer: apothecaries, bookstores, cauldron shops; there are also people selling things out on the street. There’s so many people it is hard for them to make their way through.

“Everyone’s shopping for school,” Harry tells them, “though Diagon Alley is rarely empty.”

Their first stop is a large marble-white building, which Dudley learns is a bank and where short, severe-looking creatures with long feet and fingers (goblins, Harry explains) trade their money for several gold, silver and bronze coins.

“Alright, now that you’ve got money, our first stop is Madam Malkin’s, so we can get Donnie some robes,” Harry informs them.

Dudley and Jennifer stare in perplexed astoundment at the window displays in every store, but Donovan and Brittany look positively delighted. Dudley knows there’s no going back now: his Donnie would never accept not going to Hogwarts.

They get Donnie fitted for robes, which he seriously dislikes, and when they are handed to them, the shopkeeper throws an order form inside their bag.

“We’ve got jumpers, knitted hats and accessories for every House. When you know what House your son was sorted into, send me an owl with your order,” she says.

Next they go to a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts, where Donnie takes off into the maze of bookshelves the second he walks through the door. Harry helps Dudley and Jennifer find all the required books, plus they get a copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ as per Brittany’s request, as well as book on astronomy Donnie picks.

Somewhat unusual for Dudley, he finds himself flipping through the pages of various books that catch his eye, and he figures the dizziness he feels compares to standing on the very edge of a cliff, like an entire new world, which he spent the better part of his life trying to ignore, is materialising right before his eyes. Jennifer, though, is more pragmatic: she hands Dudley a book called _A History of the Two Wizarding Wars of the Twentieth Century_ and demands he buys it.

It takes a while to coax Donovan out of the bookstore, but in the end they manage to make it to Potage’s Cauldron Shop, where Dudley purchases a pewter cauldron, feeling incredibly silly about it. He feels even sillier buying beetle eyes and porcupine quills, among other basic potion ingredients, at the Apothecary.

Donovan is over the moon when they get him a fine brass collapsible telescope, and says he’ll get started on filling a star chart he bought at Flourish and Blotts the second they get home.

“You’ll be doing plenty of that at Hogwarts,” Harry tells him, “now it’s time to get you your wand.”

While the wand shop is possibly the place Donnie had been wanting to visit the most, for Dudley it represents the absolute embrace of a lifestyle he’d been taught to hate and dread. More than anything, he knows his son yielding a magic wand will make everything that has happened during the past weeks feel real and definite.

Dudley is perplexed by the concept of the wand choosing the wizard. The old man tending the store laughs when he asks if shouldn’t they be choosing the wand as they’re the ones paying for it. In the end, Donnie walks out of the store with a hornbeam wand safely wrapped in brown paper and tucked under his arm. Donovan looks delighted, and Dudley suspects the only reason Brittany isn’t jealous of her brother is the stubborn belief that she will be getting a letter the following year. Dudley shudders.

As they make their way through the crowd, Dudley notices the window display of a shop called Quality Quidditch Supplies, which showcases a broomstick, not unlike the one Harry used to bring home with him every summer.

“Is it safe to buy them a broom?” Dudley asks.

“They can’t take brooms with them until they’re in their second year,” Harry replies.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Dudley points out with a hint of exasperation.

“I’m not gonna tell you accidents won’t happen, but it’s like riding a bike: you fall, you get up.”

“Because when you fall off a bike you do it fifty feet above ground,” Dudley deadpans not minding in the least Harry’s annoyed look.

“Look, worry about that next year, right now you should really invest in buying him a pet,” Harry tells him, and it doesn’t escape Dudley’s notice that his cousin is trying to change the topic.

“I suppose you’re gonna tell me to get him a dragon and that it’s like owning a puppy,” Dudley grunts.

“I was gonna suggest an owl, they can be useful to deliver post, but a dragon could do too,” Harry says. Dudley is horrified. Then he sees the smirk fighting its way on Harry’s face and he realises it was meant to be a joke.

“Lead the way,” he huffs at last.

At a pet shop called Eeylops Owl Emporium, Donovan insists on a great horned owl with red eyes and feathers so dark it’s almost black and names it Giansar.

“It looks like a small dragon, and Giansar is a star in the dragon constellation,” Donovan explains.

“He’s really into astronomy,” Dudley reminds Harry, stating the obvious.

“You’re gonna love that class at Hogwarts,” Harry says.

“I can’t wait!” Donovan replies excitedly.

Despite Dudley’s protests, Donovan and Brittany drag the adults to Quality Quidditch Supplies, to quench their curiosity about the number one wizarding sport. The shopkeeper is clearly a fan and launches on a detailed explanation of the game. The rules, Dudley thinks, are reasonably easy to follow, though he refrains from pointing out that Quidditch sounds more like four sports merged into one. The fact that it is played on flying brooms fifty feet above ground does nothing to assuage his worries.

Meanwhile, Donovan and Brittany are delighted to see the different models of balls and brooms the shopkeeper presents them with and they exit the store with an issue of _Seeker Weekly_ the man gave them for free.

 

Harry takes them to an ice-cream parlour after all their shopping is done. The kids eagerly drag their mom to the counter, where they happily sample the different available flavours, while Dudley slumps onto a chair and Harry takes a seat opposite to him.

“I don’t know what to say,” Dudley says.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, it was for me,” Harry assures him.

“It’s not the magic bit, I’ve had nearly thirty years to get used to that. But, Harry, you can’t honestly tell me all this isn’t dangerous.”

“It looks that way because you’re not used to it.”

“I flipped through Donnie’s Potions book, it downright says your cauldron can blow up!”

“It’s like a muggle Chemistry class,” Harry defends.

“Without protection gear! And Quidditch, you can’t honestly tell me it’s as risky as any muggle sport,” Dudley pleads.

“I played Quidditch when I was Donnie’s age, I was the youngest player in a hundred years.”

“That … is absurd,” Dudley says incredulous, “you sucked at sports.”

“I was pretty good at dodging things, I kinda owe you for that, you were pretty much my coach,” Harry jokes, but Dudley’s expression sours, “it’s a joke, come on.”

“I cannot believe you honestly send your three children to a school where it’s normal to hop on a broomstick and dodge cannonballs. It’s like you don’t even worry.” Now it’s Harry’s face turn to sour, he purses his lips and goes silent for so long Dudley gets worried.

“What is it?” Dudley asks.

“I do worry. You — you don’t know —” Harry stammers.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say you’re a careless dad, I —”

“My son Albus is in Sweden right now,” Harry says abruptly.

“In Sweden?” Dudley asks, surprised by the change of topic.

“We went to Tokyo last month, for the Summer Olympics, because Al loves them. He met a wizard there that’s into broom racing. Which is about as dangerous as it sounds, it makes Quidditch look like a game of marbles, and my son decided he wanted to try it out. He’s at a summer camp for young talents right now, and even though I played Quidditch, even though I’ve done pretty dangerous things in my time, I can’t help thinking every five minutes of my son, on a racing broom in bloody Sweden.” Harry’s run himself out of air and Dudley is having trouble digesting his rant. He can feel his jaw has gone slack, but can’t be bothered to close his mouth.

“Your son,” he says at last, “I’m sorry, you’re going to have to run that through me again, your son is doing what?”

“You see car racing? Well, it’s something like that but on a broom. It’s all very organised, there are professional teams, races all around the globe, and one of the top fliers in the world offered Albus a chance to attend his summer camp after he saw him fly. Ginny and I agreed and now I’m second-guessing that decision every passing second, even if my Al’s already written to me saying he’s alright.”

“Wow,” Dudley says after letting out a long whistle, “and I thought sending Donnie to science camp was hard.”

“I know, right?” Harry laughs. “Look, I know what little you’ve seen of this world hasn’t exactly been its best side, but it’s not nearly as bad or dangerous as you think it is. This is going to be something good for Donnie.”

“It’s just … I know you keep saying I’m not going to lose him, but am I really only ever going to see him during the holidays? What if he gets in trouble or something? From what I gather, you were nearly killed over and over and dad was never notified, and he was supposed to be your legal guardian.”

Harry raises a sceptical eyebrow at that and Dudley realises how ridiculous the idea of his father worrying about Harry getting hurt sounded.

“I know, I know there’s not much good that would’ve made, but still,” he says.

“Hogwarts is protected by spells that make it look like an old ruined castle if a muggle ever bumps into it. But like the entrance to Diagon Alley, muggles can see it if they’re pointed to it by a wizard. My friend Hermione’s parents could go to see her graduate,” Harry explains to him, “if you ever need to see Donnie, you’ll be able to.”

Dudley nods silently at that. On one hand it’s a relief to know he could go to Hogwarts if his son needed it; on the other, the very idea of stepping a foot on that place makes him shudder. He is aware, of course, that the horrid picture of that school he’s got in his head is sure to be vastly different from reality.

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Dudley asks at last, “I mean, a wand just chose my son. That sounds pretty definite.”

“That’s because it is,” Harry responds with a good-natured laugh, “your son is a wizard. All you can do is do your best to make sure he is a happy one.”

 

“So, who was the teacher that showed up at your house to tell you about Hogwarts?” Harry asks later that evening after the Dursleys return home, loaded with bags of books and equipment, as well as an owl cage that is sure to arise perplexed questions among their neighbours.

“Higgs,” Dudley answers, “I think the name was Terence or something, he said he taught Potions.”

“Oh, yes, Terence. He’s the head of Albus’ house. He says he’s cool.”

“So it’s your typical British boarding school, with houses and all,” Dudley notes.

“That’s right, Hogwarts has four houses.”

“And let me guess, everyone thinks theirs is the best,” Dudley says, knowing full well how sanguinary inter-house competition could get at a boarding school.

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Harry laughs, “most of my family belongs to one house, but Al’s in what you could say is the rival house. He loves it when his house wins.”

“How do they decide where to place each kid?” Dudley asks.

“They have this hat, very old, very ragged. It was enchanted to look for the qualities the founders of each house valued the most. When it finds any one of them, he places the student where it thinks it belongs,” Harry explains.

“They put on a hat … and it tells them where to go,” Dudley summarises, a bit sceptical, though he reckons nothing should come as a surprise anymore by this point.

“That’s about the extent of it, yes,” Harry agrees.

“And what are these houses?”

“There’s Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin; they’re the last names of the houses’ founders. Gryffindor looked for the brave, Slytherin for the ambitious, Hufflepuff for the loyal and Ravenclaw for the smart.”

“Donnie is gonna be in the smart one, I know it,” Dudley declares, “what was yours?”

“Gryffindor,” Harry answers with a smile, to Dudley’s raised eyebrow.

“The brave one?” he asks.

“That’s the one, though some may say we’re mostly reckless and call it bravery,” Harry shrugs.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what I thought every time you sassed dad,” Dudley admits, and immediately regrets bringing up the subject, but Harry just laughs.

“That’s Gryffindor for you: incredibly brave or incredibly imprudent, depending on the day of the week.”

“I hope Donnie does get into the smart house,” Dudley sighs, hopeful.

 

“What are we going to tell my parents?” Dudley asks his wife that night after Harry leaves, plopping onto his bed with an anguished whine. To his surprise, Jennifer’s expression shuts down, her eyes going so cold Dudley has to repress a shudder.

“We tell them nothing,” she states firmly. Dudley raises and eyebrow.

“You usually love my mom,” he says, “and she loves you.”

“She only loves me because I fit in the perfect mould of what she deems acceptable. I’m a stay-at-home mom, just like her, who helps her with dinner on Christmas and runs her perfect little suburban house efficiently. But after everything you’ve told me, I keep wondering, what if I wasn’t? What if I had done like Ginny Potter and not left my career aside? What if I don’t lock my kids inside a cupboard when they get a letter from magic school? I think she’d look at me the same way she looks when she talks about Mrs. Heatherington from across the street.”

Dudley is shocked into silence by Jennifer’s words. He stares open-mouthed at his wife standing before him and the fire burning in her eyes.

“Wow,” is all he manages to say.

“I’m sorry, Dud, I know she’s your mother —”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Dudley rushes to assure her, “it’s just … you can be scary when pissed.” Jennifer laughs.

“I get scary when I think someone might hurt my children.”

“I’d like to say my parents won’t hurt Donnie…” Dudley begins.

“But you can’t,” Jennifer finishes for him.

“So we don’t tell them,” Dudley says as he lies down on the mattress.

“I don’t want them to lose their grandparents’ love. They’d be devastated,” Jennifer reasons as she climbs next to Dudley on the bed.

“We can’t tell them they’re going to Smeltings if they’re not, they’d find out,” Dudley says, realising they’re both now assuming Brittany will go to Hogwarts too the following year. He wonders when they became comfortable with the idea.

“We say Donnie got a scholarship at prestigious boarding school, one with a good science program for outstanding kids and somewhere far, like northern England or Scotland,” Jennifer suggests.

“And what? Tell Donnie to write false letters to them? And how do we explain that there are no phones at Hogwarts? I don’t want to ask our kids to lie.”

“We’ll figure it out. We’ll try to do most of the lying so they don’t have to. I hate it too but …”

“I don’t want them to lose their grandparents’ love either,” Dudley agrees resigned.

“Let’s go to sleep for now, it’s been a long day,” Jennifer says.

“The longest,” Dudley agrees with a yawn as he rolls over to turn off the bedroom light.

“And I never asked you to leave your career.” Dudley says after they spend a few minutes silent in the dark.

“I know, Dudley,” Jennifer replies.

“When we met I kept bragging to my friends about my girlfriend the Business major. They asked if I was sure you were my girlfriend.”

“I don’t regret it, being a stay-at-home mom. I just know what your mother would think about me if I wasn’t.”

“I’d fight her about it every time she said something,” Dudley says firmly.

“I know.”

“And if they find out about Donnie, I’ll fight them on it too,” Dudley adds.

“So will I,” Jennifer promises. Dudley’s hand finds hers and with a reassuring squeeze both Dursleys try to settle their minds enough to sleep.

 

The first of September arrives and the Dursleys find themselves at King’s Cross station at half past ten. Dudley anxiously pushes the cart with Donnie’s trunk and Giansar’s cage feeling like he was attracting the attention of everyone at the station.

“When we dropped Harry here for the first time and he had no idea how to get to platform nine and three-quarters we laughed. Karma’s a funny thing, huh?” Dudley mutters to Jennifer.

“Try not to think about that right now,” Jennifer replies.

“Alright, so Harry said to walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten,” Dudley says.

“Like them?” Brittany says, pointing at a family approaching the barrier. Discreetly, the four Dursleys stare as two boys, one after the other, push their carts towards the barrier and disappear behind it one second later, their parents following behind.

“Looks like it,” Dudley says.

“Alright then,” Jennifer says, “let’s do it.”

Dudley goes first, figuring he’d rather smash himself against the barrier than have his son doing it, so he pushes the trolley right towards the barrier. He feels silly doing it, and is sure he is going to collide and cause a scene. _Don’t be afraid to crash, if it makes you nervous, make a run for it_ , his cousin had told him. And so he runs, and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s gonna hit the wall … but he doesn’t.

He’s now standing in the middle of a very busy platform, full of people hopping on and off a shiny scarlet steam engine. Dudley stares in awe at the wrought-iron archway with the words _Platform Nine and Three-Quarters_ on it, and at the crowd carrying large trunks, owl cages and cat crates before realising his family should be joining him any second. He moves aside to make room for them and a second later Jennifer crosses the barrier holding Donnie and Brittany with each hand. As soon as they step into the platform, the kids let out amazed cries.

“Wow!” Donnie says.

“It’s awesome!” adds Brittany.

A few feet away from them, Dudley spots Harry standing with his wife and kids, along with a tall, slender man with platinum blond hair and a woman with long black hair.

“Hello,” Dudley says when he reaches Harry.

“Hi there,” Harry greets, “you made it okay?”

“Yes, yes. We almost didn’t believe you could go through the barrier without crashing, but then we saw a family do it and said ‘why not?’” Dudley answers, “oh, I’m Dudley Dursley, by the way,” he adds offering his hand to the blond man next to Harry, “and this is my wife Jennifer and my children Donovan and Brittany.”

“Draco Malfoy,” the other man replies taking Dudley’s hand with a perplexed expression, “and this is my wife Astoria”. Dudley can’t be sure, but he thinks Harry looks positively amused.

“Ready to go to Hogwarts, Donovan?” his cousin asks.

“Everything looks so cool!” Donovan exclaims.

“I’m glad you think that way,” Harry tells him before turning to his son, “Al, why don’t you help Donovan get settled?”

“Sure,” Albus agrees, “oh, this is Scorpius, by the way, my best mate. Score, this is my cousin Donovan,” he adds pointing to a blond boy that looks the spitting image of Draco Malfoy. Dudley finds both the boy and his father’s names very strange.

“Nice to meet you,” Scorpius greets politely.

“Come on, let’s get your stuff inside,” Albus says beckoning Donnie to the train.

“I’ll be right back,” Donnie says to his parents before following Albus and Scorpius.

“Oh, mom, can I go too?” Brittany asks her mother.

“You’re not old enough, sweetie, but next year maybe you will,” Jennifer responds with a tight smile, which indicates she isn’t really counting the days. Brittany looks upset, but doesn’t insist.

The kids come back out of the train so they can say goodbye to their parents before the whistle blows announcing the Hogwarts Express’ imminent departure. As he watches the scarlet machine leave with his son in it, Dudley is startled when he feels Harry place a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s always hard the first year,” Harry says.

“That it is,” Dudley hears Draco agree.

“It gets better with time, don’t worry,” Astoria adds, addressing the Dursleys.

“Well, _I_ can’t wait ‘til it’s my first year,” Brittany chimes in.

“We still don’t —” Dudley begins but cuts himself with a resigned sigh, “the year will fly by in no time, you’ll see.”

Dudley and Jennifer spend some time at the platform before leaving. Harry, Ginny and the Malfoys answer some of their questions and give them useful advice. When it’s time to leave, Dudley is sure he sees again a hint of amusement in his cousin’s eyes, but he can’t figure out why.

“The year will fly by, right?” Brittany asks a bit subdued as they make their way through the barrier.

“You’ll see, sweetheart, it will go in a flash,” Dudley reassures her, hoping for the first time his daughter does get a letter the following year, or she will be devastated.


	3. Donnie's First Year at Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Donovan Dursley's first year at Hogwarts, Dudley gets a lot of post, reads a history book, discovers that every flavour means _every_ flavour and even learns a few Ravenclaw riddles.

The first letter arrives on September third. Giansar, Donovan’s great horned owl taps on the kitchen window of number eleven, Lilac Lane, making all three Dursleys look up from their breakfasts.

“We’ve got post!” Brittany shrieks excitedly while animatedly pointing at the window.

With a certain degree of apprehension, Dursley opens his kitchen window to let the eager owl inside. Meanwhile, Brittany rushes to get Giansar her bowl of water and the owl treats they bought during their shopping trip to Diagon Alley.

 

Dear mom and dad,

I’m in magic school!!!! I still can’t believe it, and Hogwarts is amazing. The castle is huge and old and we got there on enchanted boats and the gamekeeper is a half-giant and the Great Hall has this enchanted ceiling that shows the weather outside and is lit by all these floating candles. It is AWESOME.

So there was this ceremony where they put a really old hat on our heads and the hat could talk, just like uncle Harry said it would, and it sorted us in our houses. There’s the house of the bookish people, and the house of the brave, the house of the loyal and the house of the ambitious, and guess where I ended up? Yeah, I got in the bookish one, surprise, huh? It’s called Ravenclaw, by the way, and our house colours are blue and bronze.

Our common room is incredible, it’s at the top of a tower that looks down to the lake and the castle grounds, and there are bookcases everywhere and even a small library. To get to the common rooms you need a password, but for our house, the password is the answer to a riddle, so every time we want to get in, we must answer a different riddle. Isn’t it awesome? Here’s the one we had to solve on our first night:

“What am I?”

That’s it. Can you guess it? I couldn’t, but a boy in our year could and it was so obvious I felt incredibly dumb.

Our head of house is this really old teacher that is really, really short, but they told us he used to be a very skilled duellist once upon a time. He will be teaching us Charms. Can you believe it? Last year I was eager to have classes like Science and stuff and now I am so hyped to go to my first Charms lesson, or to Potions. And did you know there’s this class called Defence Against the Dark Arts? It sounds so cool. Oh, and the professor that went to our home the other night said there was this Care of Magical Creatures class, but you can’t take it until you’re in third year. That was a bummer.

Anyways, food is unbelievable here. There was this huge feast with so many stuff it was insane. Roast beef, roast chicken, steak, bacon, lamb chops, pork chops, kidney pies, there was everything.

So, I better go to sleep now, they’re giving us our schedules tomorrow morning, but I am so excited I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.

I am so happy to be here, and I am sure Britt will be too next year. Tell her I say hi, would you. Anyways, I love you, guys, I’ll be writing again soon.

Love,  
Donnie

PS. There is a giant squid in the lake. A giant squid! And some kids say it lets students tickle its tentacles on sunny days, isn’t it cool? I’m going to bed for real now. See you!

 

“’What am I?’, what kind of question is that?” Dudley asks, confused. Donnie didn’t bother writing the answer.

“It’s a question,” Brittany replies and then her eyes widen, “that’s it! What am I? A question. That’s the answer!”

“That … actually makes sense,” Jennifer ponders as a smile appears on her face, “that is very clever.”

“And they have to answer one of those every time they want inside their dorms? It’s insane!” Dudley exclaims.

“Donnie is going to come back smarter than he left,” Brittany huffs.

 

Dear mom and dad,

Classes have started and they are way, way tougher than any class I’ve ever taken before. Luckily, the struggle seems to be the same for everyone, not just muggle-borns. They’re teaching us to turn a matchstick into a needle in Transfiguration, it is hard as hell. And I’ve learned to use my wand as a flashlight! Also, Defence Against the Dark Arts is one of the coolest classes ever, one of my favourites along with Astronomy. I think I was the only kid in my class jumping with joy over having classes at midnight.

I’m not so fond of Herbology, though. Our teacher is great, some kind of war hero, from what I hear, but I don’t find his class all that interesting to be honest. But hands down the worst class here is History of Magic. Our teacher is a ghost that drones and drones and dronezzzzzzzzzzz.

Potions is hard and I am so swamped in homework right now I can’t even…

We’ll have our first Flying lessons later this week. I’m kinda nervous to be honest…

Anyways, I hope you’re doing alright. Say hello to Brit for me.

Love,  
Donnie

PS. So, could you guess the answer to the riddle from my last letter? The answer is “a question”. What am I? A question. Clever, huh?  
Here’s another one: “What can you put in a cauldron to make it lighter?”.

 

Dear mom and dad,  
I did it!!!! I flew on a broom for the first time!!!!

I’ve gotta tell you, no matter how much magic I’ve seen (and done) these past days, a part of me still didn’t believe it was actually possible. Turns out it is.

I was so nervous at first, but I still managed to do it. I flew a few laps around the castle grounds and after a while I wasn’t so afraid anymore. I was almost sad when professor Spinnet told us to get back on the ground. It was pretty cool. Still, I don’t think I’ll be trying out for the Quidditch team next year.

Oh, and Harry’s son Albus showed up in my class, he was carrying a camcorder that his friend Scorpius spelled to work in Hogwarts grounds. They filmed my first Flying lesson and said they’ll be sending you the video, so I guess you guys will be able to see it for yourselves. Please don’t have a heart attack.

I can’t believe I have to wait a full week before I get on a broom again. And yes, this is the closest I’ll get to like a Gym class, so there you go.

Hogwarts is great but I miss you all. I wish Christmas break came sooner and at the same time I don’t, if that makes sense.

Love,  
Donnie

PS. About the riddle in my last letter, I said you can put holes in a cauldron to make it lighter, and the knocker said it was correct. But then a kid in my year said you could put light in it and the knocker said it was correct too. And then a girl said you can put a spell on it to make it lighter and the answer was also right. Turns out some riddles have different answers, depending on how you think. Interesting, huh?

 

The letters kept coming twice or even three times every week, each with the kind of stuff Dudley had only heard of in fairy tales, but somehow they managed to have a reassuring effect on him. The more he read Donnie’s enthusiasm, the less wary Dudley felt about Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, Jennifer finished reading _A History of the Two Wizarding Wars of the Twentieth Century_ and slams it one day on the kitchen table right where Dudley is trying to eat his breakfast, a troubled look on her face.

“Read it,” she demands, “and then I want to speak with your cousin.”

And read it Dudley does. It’s been a while since Dudley had read anything that wasn’t news or work related, and the book is thick enough to discourage him, but Jennifer’s commanding tone is enough incentive so Dudley reluctantly goes through the first few chapters. He realises he never expected to be so invested in a history book by the time he gets to the chapters covering the Second Wizarding War.

Dudley had no idea, absolutely no idea, of the magnitude of the war his cousin fought when they were just teens. He basically stood up to a dictator on more than one occasion and ended up overthrowing him. He thinks back to those years and tries to match up the dates in the book with the memories of his childhood. With a sinking feeling of guilt, he realises with horror that the summer of 1995, when he got attacked by dementors and when he mocked Harry for crying in his sleep had been right after he witnessed the man that killed his parents raise from the dead, and that his cousin had one of his peers murdered right in front of him.

“Damn, Harry, you are one tough bloke, you know that?” Dudley mutters to himself as he keeps on reading.

 

It takes Dudley longer to finish the book than it took Jennifer but he eventually does it. The final chapters, the ones that spoke of the last year of Voldemort’s regime, leave Dudley with an unpleasant feeling of guilt. He and his parents always blamed Harry for forcing them to go into hiding but now he knows they had it easy holed up in some safe house with a bunch of wizards. Meanwhile his cousin had been on the run.

“I can’t believe I read a history book in full,” Dudley says Jennifer one morning.

“Your son flies on a broom, so weirder things have happened, right?” Jennifer jokes, but then turns serious, “I want to speak with Harry.”

“What for?” Dudley asks.

“That war,” Jennifer says pointing at the book in Dudley’s hand, “it was against a man that thought muggle-borns should be killed. Muggle-borns like our son.”

“But the war is over,” Dudley replies confused.

“Magical world or otherwise, that sort of mentality never truly goes away,” Jennifer says.

 

Harry does drop by their house one day to reassure both Dudley and Jennifer, and tells them about the work he and his friends have been doing within the Ministry of Magic to burry the laws and policies that backed up the pureblood supremacy mentality.

Once the Dursleys are somewhat put at ease on the subject a new issue for them to deal arises, and that is the fact that they can no longer turn a blind eye to their daughter’s magic.

Even without a wand, Brittany Dursley has gone to great lengths to educate herself on the subject of witchcraft, poring over a copy of _Magical Theory_ and gaining a rudimentary control of her magic.

“You’re not supposed to do that at your age,” Dudley admonishes one night while his daughter plays with a plastic spinning top, making it spin on its own over the living room table as she props her head on her arms and idly watches it turn.

“I have no wand, in the unlikely case somebody from the Ministry of Magic asks, it can be explained away as accidental magic,” Brittany replies with a bored voice as the top keeps spinning on the table.

“Still, it makes me nervous,” Dudley says.

“Fine,” Brittany answers with a resigned sigh, “it’s my bedtime anyways,” she says as she gets on her feet; the top stops spinning immediately. Brittany disappears up the stairs and Dudley doesn’t miss the way the lights on the stairwell turn on as she climbs the steps and turn off when she reaches the upper floor. Magically turning the lights on and off as she enters or exits a room had become a habit of Brittany in recent days. Dudley sighs and decides to pick his battles.

 

Dudley has forgotten all about Donnie’s promise to send a video when Harry shows up at his doorstep in the middle of November holding a DVD in his hand.

“I’ve been instructed to give you this,” he says with a grin, “your son’s first Flying lesson.”

“Oh, yes, Donnie mentioned your kid filmed it, come in,” Dudley replies.

In retrospect, it really shouldn’t have surprised Dudley that Harry knows how to use a DVD player.

“I grew up in this world, Dudley,” Harry reminds him, “and my house does have electricity.”

Dudley plops down on the couch as Harry places the DVD on the tray and muses about what Harry’s house would look like. He can’t reconcile the images of his own home and what he remembers from businesses at Diagon Alley, so he can’t picture a house that’s equal parts magical and ordinary.

“I just hope I don’t get a heart attack like dad almost did every day during that year we spent in hiding,” Dudley sighs.

“You survived Diagon Alley, you can survive a home movie,” Harry replies as he takes a seat next to his cousin and presses play on the remote.

The screen shows a group of kids gathered on some very vast and green grounds. The stone wall of a castle can be seen on one side. Dudley can distinguish several brooms scattered on the grass.

“Am I holding this right?” the voice of a boy asks.

“Yes, thank you, Jackson,” Dudley hears Harry’s son Albus say before the black-haired boy appears on the screen next to his friend Scorpius.

“Hi! I’m Albus Potter and this is my best mate Scorpius Malfoy,” Albus says.

“Hello!” Scorpius greets.

“And we are here to record the adventures of Donovan Dursley for posterity. Today’s episode: Donnie’s first Flying lesson!” Albus says.

“Alright, you two take it from here,” the boy holding the camera says, “Gryffindors don’t have a free period and I’ve got to get to class.”

“It’s History of Magic,” Albus says to the camera, “which is pointless and taught by a ghost.”

“It’s gotten better lately,” Scorpius defends.

“Plus, Gryffindors share that class with the Ravenclaws,” Albus adds wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, which earns him an elbow to the ribs from Scorpius, “ouch!” Dudley thinks to himself that at least he recognises the word _Ravenclaw_.

“Alright, I’m off,” Jackson says, handing the camcorder to Albus, who points it back at the other boy.

“Thank you, Jackson,” Dudley hears Scorpius say as Jackson walks away.

“And if you want a spoiler,” Albus says off-screen as the camcorder follows Jackson making his way towards the castle, “that guy over there is future Mr. — ouch!”

“We’ve gone off topic,” Scorpius says, “and Professor Spinnet has arrived.”

The camera does a 180 degree turn to show a woman around his age, maybe a bit older, with dark hair and skin and dressed in black robes, calling students and beckoning them to gather around her.

“They’re really going to fly on those brooms,” Dudley says, still incredulous.

“They really are,” his cousin confirms.

Professor Spinnet gives a small explanation to the first years about what they’re about to do, at times turning to look at the camera, and Dudley wonders if the teacher is alright with being filmed. She looks annoyed and amused at the same time.

Kids with previous flying experience are the firsts to call the brooms before them with a firm “up!”. Dudley gasps when the broomsticks immediately jump the feet that separates the ground from the student’s hands. The kids hop on them and take off, fly around for a bit until Professor Spinnet calls them back on the ground.

First-timers are next, and the camera zooms on Donovan Dursley’s face, who looks as nervous as Dudley knows he gets in Gym class, but at the same time he looks determined.

“Up!” the boy says; the broom is in his grasp in an instant.

Dudley gasps in surprise. Funnily enough, he’s gotten used to see his daughter perform small acts of magic but this is the first time he sees his son doing some. And as shocking as it is, he can’t help feeling a bit proud, specially because he knows that’s the one class Donnie had been nervous about.

When Dudley watches Donnie hop on the broom and give it a kick to get off the ground, he can’t supress another gasp. On the screen, Donnie gives a few tentative turns on his broom, his apprehension clearly visible on the screen, but after a while it fades away and his face lights up in wonder at the realisation that he’s actually flying.

“H — he’s — he’s flying!” Dudley exclaims, unable to keep his voice from breaking, “Harry, he’s flying!”

“He really is, Dudley, he really is,” Harry says.

After all kids dismount from their brooms, Professor Spinnet turns to the camera and beckons Albus to approach her.

“Mr. Potter here just spent the summer at a broom racing camp in Sweden,” she says, to the class’ amazement, “perhaps you could offer us a demonstration.”

The camcorder is handed to Scorpius and Albus is on the screen a second after, heading eagerly to one of the brooms lying on the ground.

Dudley stares in horrified shock as his cousin’s son demonstrates his skills. He flies around, he does a few loop-the-loops and soars up to finish with a vertical dive that he manages to brake inches before hitting the ground, which is received with a round of applause from the first-years gathered around him.

“You let your son do that?!” Dudley asks, but he notices Harry is too shocked to reply. Is this what Harry meant when he said his youngest son was into extreme sports? Meanwhile, Scorpius’ scoff is heard.

“You think you’re all that, huh?” the blond boy asks before casting some sort of spell on the camcorder and running to the nearest broom. Whatever magic the kid did, it made the camcorder follow him around, seemingly floating in the air.

Scorpius flies around for a bit before holding firmly onto the broom and letting go of it with one hand and one leg a second later, his body stretching alongside the broom.

With only one hand and one foot holding the shaft, and the rest of his body hanging below the broom, Scorpius begins an ascent which stops until he’s about thirty feet above ground, then he descends, prompting a second round of applause.

“That was the Starfish and Stick, a Quidditch tactic used by Keepers to protect the goalposts, which shouldn’t be attempted by fourteen-year-olds,” Professor Spinnet admonishes.

“Zabini made me master it last year,” Scorpius shrugs and Albus snorts.

“You’re all mental,” Dudley wheezes, his eyes wide as plates at the nonchalance with which Scorpius responds the professor’s scolding, “mental.”

“My son is into extreme sports, which is terrifying, don’t think it’s not. You should’ve seen his face when he saw the BMX at the Olympics. If we were all muggle, he’d be going for crazy stuff too. It doesn’t mean Donnie will be into that,” Harry tries to placate.

I certainly hope not, Dudley thinks before excusing himself and heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water and gather his thoughts.

It is true, the rational side of his brain thinks as he downs his glass in one go, that his son has very explicitly told him how very much he’s not interested in playing Quidditch, even if he does enjoy watching the occasional game. The terrified side of his brain insists Donnie is right now at a school where teachers don’t bat an eyelash when students decide to do a vertical descent on a broom. But so far every letter they’ve received has been filled with good news and his son sounds the happiest Dudley’s ever remembered him being. As he splashes water on his face by the kitchen sink, Dudley decides that can be enough, for now.

When he returns to the living room, Dudley finds Harry staring at the telly with the same shocked look Dudley had when he left for the kitchen.

“Harry? Harry, are you okay?” he asks as he turns to the screen in alarm, expecting to see either of their sons engaging in even more dangerous acrobatics, but all he finds is Albus and his friend play-wrestling on the grass and laughing. “Harry?”

Harry turns to him startled before coughing and straightening himself up on the couch.

“Hey, you’re back,” he says, sounding surprised, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dudley replies puzzled, “I mean, it’s still a shock, but I guess I already knew he’d be doing that, right?”

“I wouldn’t worry. He looks happy, safe and he’s got family there to watch his back.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Dudley concedes, “I’m kinda more worried about showing Jennifer this.” His cousin just laughs.

 

Dudley, Jennifer and Brittany can barely hold their excitement as the Hogwarts Express slows down on platform nine and three-quarters. They crane their necks and search through the crowd hoping to see their son and soon enough they spot him wrestling his trunk and Giansar’s cage out of the train. The second he sees his family his eyes alight.

“Mom, dad!” Donnie yells in glee as he runs to hug them.

“Good to see you, buddy,” Dudley says, “did you have a nice term?”

“Oh, you will not believe the things I learned how to do,” Donnie replies excitedly.

“You can tell us all about it in the car, come on,” Dudley says as the four Dursleys head for the barrier to Muggle London.

 

Donnie doesn’t stop talking for a second the whole drive back to Surrey. In one minute he goes from talking about turning matchsticks into needles to brewing a Hair-Growing Potion to the food at the Halloween feast.

“And Professor Sinistra couldn’t believe it when I showed up to her first lesson with my star chart completely filled and they all looked at me like I was insane when I asked if any wizard had ever been to space. Oh, and Harry’s son James showed me a few hidden passages to get to my classes faster!”

It goes on until they reach number eleven in Lilac Lane, after which Donnie rushes to set his trunk in the living room and starts rummaging through it.

“Here! Take this,” he says holding a box with red and white stripes, “those are Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Just watch out, they mean literally every flavour. You can find strawberry or you can find cod liver oil”.

“Yuck,” Brittany says, but she still takes the box from Donovan and opens it.

“And these are Chocolate Frogs!” Donnie goes on, holding now a blue pentagonal box, “they come with cards of famous people, I’ve already got a bunch of them.”

“Yuck, egg yolk!” Brittany exclaims as she chews on a bean, “I thought it could be mango or orange or something. Here, see if you’re luckier than me,” she says as she hands the box of Bertie Bott’s to her mom. Meanwhile, Dudley has already opened his Chocolate Frog box.

“These are good,” he says, his mouth full of chocolate.

 

It’s a weird feeling for Dudley as Boxing Day arrives. For the first time ever, he’s not dreading his cousin’s impending visit, and Donovan and Brittany are over the moon about having magical guests.

Dudley has to admit that having everything out in the open now makes the Potters’ visit much easier. His cousin and his family don’t pretend anymore and Dudley’s kids have a much better time hanging out with James, Albus and Lily. Plus, is always nice to have someone who can listen to their concerns and actually provide some answers.

Harry takes an active interest in how Donnie is doing at school and Donnie is happy to talk about his favourite classes.

“Astronomy’s alright, though I’m a bit disappointed wizards don’t seem to care about sending things to space. The rest of my classes are great,” Donovan tells Harry as they have breakfast.

“Donovan just got top marks in his most recent Potions assignment,” Jennifer comments, “though I still don’t know what use could someone find for a Forgetfulness Potion.”

“Most potions taught to first-years are mostly meant to familiarise them with potion brewing, they’re very simple to make,” Harry explains.

“And he keeps bragging about performing a Full Body-Bind Curse right,” Brittany says, “whatever that means.”

“That’s for paralysing your opponent in a duel,” Lily tells her, which prompts James to tell the Dursleys all about Duelling Club.

“Dad drops by from time to time to help with Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons. Next year he’ll teach you the Disarming Charm,” Albus says.

“That’s kind of your signature spell, right?” Dudley asks, “I mean, the book said it was.”

“It is,” Harry replies and Dudley detects his surprise at the fact that Dudley actually remembered something he read in a history book.

“Don’t read books about dad,” Albus intervenes, “it goes to his head.”

“Hey, watch it,” Harry fake scolds him, but Albus only laughs.

 

“At least he doesn’t like Quidditch,” Dudley tells Harry when everyone else retreats to the Dursley’s living room and both cousins take the dirty dishes to the kitchen.

“I swear Hogwarts is not as dangerous as it sounds, and it’s good for Donnie,” Harry tells him for what feels like the thousandth time to Dudley.

“I am trying to believe that, I really am,” Dudley replies.

“Vernon and Petunia still don’t know?” Harry asks.

“No. Your son showed Donnie a way to use a computer at Hogwarts, a magical room I think, and Donnie’s been sending e-mails to my parents telling them all about his fancy boarding school in Durham. The muggle version of news, he calls it. I hate the fact that we’re encouraging him to lie, but my parents will flip so hard if they find out.”

“Hey, if you really think they’ll react like they did with me …”

“You doubt it?” Dudley asks surprised.

“I mean, I’m just their nephew, from your mom’s estranged sister, Donnie and Brittany are their grandkids.”

“I still don’t think the reaction will be good. You should’ve seen their attempts at making Donnie desist on astronomy. It’s all a bunch of gibberish to them, and it’s you know, an exact science. If they find out he’s studying magic…” Dudley shudders.

“So it’s for the best, then. And I’m sure Donnie gets it.”

“I guess,” Dudley mumbles.

 

It is easier letting Donnie get on the train to Hogwarts the second time, and between the constant letters, the occasional parcel of sweets (and why would somebody make squash flavoured beans? Why?) and Brittany’s increasing control of her own magic, the months fly by without Dudley noticing, and soon it’s time to pick Dudley at King’s Cross at the end of the year. Dudley, Jennifer and Brittany join Harry in the middle of a rather large crowd. Harry introduces them to Ginny’s side of the family, which is rather big and made mostly of redheads. The Malfoys are there too as well as a rather strange-looking woman, even by wizard standards, called Luna and her husband Rolf.

The Hogwarts Express arrives and the first kid to approach the group is a dark-skinned girl with dark red hair, next out of the train is Dudley’s son, happily chatting with a pair of blond twins that turn out to be Luna and Rolf’s children.

“Hey!” Donnie greets them happily.

“Hey there, buddy, missed us?” Dudley asks.

“Yeah, but now I miss Hogwarts, though,” Donnie replies.

“It’s the boarding school effect,” Dudley tells his son as more students join their now even larger group.

A girl with silvery blond hair with pink streaks arrives, shortly after Lily Potter shows up accompanied by a boy with auburn hair, and a few minutes later James Potter joins them. Albus Potter and his friend Scorpius are the last to arrive, along with a red-haired girl and a red-haired boy.

Dudley is the first to say goodbye, giving Harry’s shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“It was good seeing you,” Dudley says.

“You too,” Harry replies, “see you in September.”

“You have to visit us before that, you should come with us when it’s time to get Brittany’s books and stuff,” Dudley tells him.

“Has her letter arrived?” Harry asks.

“Not yet, but it will,” Dudley shrugs, “I’m not turning a blind eye anymore.”

“I’m happy to hear that,” Harry says, “and I’ll be seeing you during the hols, then,” he adds with a smile, and Dudley finds himself sincerely looking forward to it.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go,” Dudley says to his son after the Dursleys have said goodbye to everyone and the four of them head to the barrier that will take them to Muggle London.

“I I can’t wait for September first,” Brittany says after they cross the barrier.

“You waited a full year, you can wait a few more months,” Dudley tells her laughing but then stops in his tracks at the sight that meets them on the other side. His blood runs cold and his smile disappears from his face.

A few steps away from the barrier, Vernon and Petunia Dursley are waiting for them with their arms crossed. Vernon’s face looks purple with anger but it’s Petunia’s utter contempt what makes the hair on the back of Dudley’s neck stand. When his wife and children notice what made him stop, Dudley can hear Jennifer’s shocked gasp and feel Donnie going very still next to him.

“So,” Petunia says taking one disdainful look at Donnie’s trunk and owl cage, before curling her lips into a cruel smile, “how’s Durham?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying this story so far. Let me know what you think.


	4. Loving Extra Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The youngest Dursleys have lost something, and now it's up to their parents to make up for it in spades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that, I am alive. (Everybody, say "Yay!")
> 
> I am incredibly sorry for the long wait between chapters. Real live is hectic (but fun, interesting and unpredictable, which is good), so I hope you can forgive me.
> 
> The fact that I am posting this chapter means a new update of _The Apples Fall Far_ is on the way too. It won't take too long now.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think! :D

It’s a tense drive from London to Surrey. Dudley and his family spend an hour riding in silence with Vernon and Petunia following them in their own car.

“Like we’re gonna make a run for it,” Dudley mutters annoyed as he sees his dad through the rear-view mirror.

When the Dursleys arrive at number eleven, Lilac Lane, a loud honk lets Dudley know that no, they’re not having this conversation at his house, so he keeps driving until he reaches his old childhood home on Privet Drive.

“I’m scared,” Donnie says after Dudley kills the ignition, so quietly Dudley almost thinks he imagined it, but there’s no mistaking the fear in his son’s eyes.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” Dudley says, trying to sound convinced of his own words, “your grandparents just don’t like magic very much, but it doesn’t mean you’re in trouble.”

His son doesn’t look convinced, and Dudley doesn’t feel too convinced either, but secretly he thinks it’s Dudley, not Donnie, the one who’s in deep trouble. Dudley looks at his wife and is met with a pair of cold and hard eyes, like she’s steeling herself for battle. Somehow Dudley feels a little safer.

“Come on, let’s go inside,” Dudley says when he see’s his parents walking towards the house and his father points a menacing finger at the door, signalling them to go inside with them. His children make a very slow attempt at getting out of the car.

Dudley’s heart sinks when they enter the house and he sees his parents looking at the four of them with a contempt he had only seen directed at his cousin Harry. All six Dursleys are completely silent, so the door sounds frighteningly loud when Dudley closes it behind him. He winces.

“Want to tell me what was that about?” Vernon barks once the door is closed. Dudley shrinks a bit. “You lied to us.”

“I just didn’t want to upset you,” Dudley mutters.

“Well, you did a fine job at that, didn’t you, boy?” Vernon shouts.

“What happened?” Petunia asks, “everything was so normal.”

“It wasn’t,” Dudley says, “there were signs of Donnie’s talent, there were quite a few over the years, only we didn’t notice them.” Petunia gasps at Dudley’s words, and Dudley is sure he can hear his dad mutter something about the word “talent”.

“And you let your son go to that place?” Vernon asks accusingly, “you know what that place does to people!”

“No, I don’t,” Dudley argues, “you never let me ask Harry anything about that place.”

“DON’T SAY THAT RUDDY NAME INSIDE MY HOUSE!” Vernon explodes, “IT IS HIS FAULT THIS HAPPENED. HE SOMEHOW CONTAMINATED YOUR SON AND YOU ALLOW IT!”

“That was the last time you call one of my kids contaminated,” Jennifer says in a voice so cold Dudley is sure his father actually shivers, “I don’t know what your problem with magic is, but —”

“My problem is they’re all freaks!” Vernon shrieks.

“You don’t get to call them that either,” Jennifer tells him.

“Maybe it’s not too late,” Petunia intervenes panicked, like all the fighting is too much for her nerves, “maybe there’s something we can do to fix this. I’m sure there’s a way to put all this behind us, I’m sure Smeltings wouldn’t mind admitting Donnie.”

“I don’t wanna go to Smeltings!” Donnie says, looking up at his father in alarm. Dudley tries to comfort him putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not going to Smeltings, Donnie,” he says.

“Well, he’s certainly not going back to _that_ place either,” Vernon barks.

“Yes, he is,” Dudley says firmly, “he got top marks this year, I’m not pulling him out.”

His parents stare at Dudley in shock, like they can’t believe what they’re hearing.

“This is all that boy’s fault,” Petunia says, spitting the words like they’re venom.

“You mean Harry?” Dudley asks.

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY THAT NAME IN MY HOUSE!” Vernon explodes again, “that’s it. This is what’s going to happen. I’m making a phone call to Smeltings, I’m telling them Donnie took a year off, and we are going to make a large donation to the school and they will take him in.”

“You’re not doing any of that,” Dudley replies calmly, “Donnie is going back to Hogwarts —”

“HE IS NOT GOING BACK!” Vernon bellows.

“Dudley, please,” Petunia pleads, “be reasonable. Think of Brittany.”

“What about her?” Dudley asks.

“You don’t want this example for her,” Petunia replies, “it’s scaring you, isn’t it, sweetheart?” she asks Brittany, who looks too shocked by all the fighting to answer.

“You are scaring her,” Dudley says when his daughter doesn’t reply.

“Enough,” Vernon says, “I’ve got enough of this nonsense, Donovan is not going back to that place, I won’t allow it.”

“You won’t allow it?” Dudley huffs mockingly, “what are you gonna do, exactly? Put bars on his bedroom window? Lock him inside the cupboard like you locked Harry?” Dudley instantly regrets his words when he hears his children gasp.

“Dudley!” Jennifer scolds him. They hadn’t told their kids about the cupboard. Donnie winces.

“I’m sure this magic thing will fade away if Donnie focuses on other things,” Petunia says, nearly begging, “maybe if we buy him a new telescope ...”

“Yes, yes, we do that,” Vernon agrees eagerly.

“Oh, now you don’t mind astronomy?” Dudley mocks.

“Well, it’s better that what they teach him in _that_ place,” Petunia argues.

“They actually do teach me astronomy,” Donnie counters, “and I don’t want to drop out.”

“But you will,” Vernon says.

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will,” Vernon repeats, approaching Donnie, who cowers and clings to his father, “listen to me, boy, all this silly magic business is nothing that can’t be cured with a good beating. It doesn’t have to come to that —”

A chilly draft of wind makes Vernon stop in his tracks. He looks around the house and finds all the windows firmly closed. Still, something is making the curtains dance. Petunia lets out a small squeak when she sees the flowers bending inside their flowerpots and the pages in the phonebook flipping like a fan had been turned on next to it.

“Donnie … stop that,” Petunia whimpers.

“It’s not Donnie,” Brittany says, adopting her mother’s cold tone. Her grandparents’ eyes land on her, Petunia’s full of alarm and Vernon’s full of anger. Still, Brittany remains impassive.

“You are not getting anywhere near my brother,” Brittany says, stepping forward, the youngest Dursley placing herself between her parents and brother and her grandparents, “Donnie is going back to Hogwarts and in a few months I’ll go there too.”

Vernon looks up accusingly at Dudley.

“Her too?” he asks.

“And you’re not stopping either of them,” Dudley says firmly. The wind around the house stops blowing and everything goes calm again, “come on, time to go home,” he says before turning around and opening the door. Jennifer and their kids follow him as he walks out.

 

When the door closes behind Dudley after they all get to number eleven, Lilac Lane, Dudley lets out a breath so loud it startles both of his children.

“That could’ve gone worse,” Brittany says.

“How?” Donnie asks in disbelief.

“I dunno,” Brittany shrugs, “I knew grandpa and grandma didn’t like magic much but I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Did they really locked uncle Harry inside their cupboard?” Donnie asks, turning to his father, but Dudley is still trying to get his heart rate under control, leaning against the front door and holding onto the doorknob for support.

“Is dad having a stroke?” Brittany asks.

“Kids, give your dad and me a second, would you? Please, go upstairs, we’ll be there in a minute,” Jennifer pleads. Donovan and Brittany look concerned about their father’s wellbeing but oblige nonetheless.

“Dudley?” Jennifer asks once the kids disappear up the stairs. To her surprise, Dudley starts laughing manically.

“Our daughter just stood between dad and Donnie and put him in his place,” Dudley says between pants, “and I’m _freaking out_. I’m supposed to be there for our kids, not break down in front of them.”

“Just take a deep breath,” Jennifer urges him.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Dudley says, “I had never stood up to dad like that.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Jennifer replies.

“I know it was. Still scary as hell. I can’t believe Harry sassed dad at every chance he got. He never treated me like he treated him and I think I’m gonna throw up.”

“You were very brave,” Jennifer says, running her hand affectionately through Dudley’s hair.

“What are we going to do now?” Dudley asks.

“We tell them to stuff it,” Jennifer answers.

“No, not _them_ , the kids,” Dudley clarifies, “they just lost the love of two people they care about. They’re their bloody grandparents!”

“If they can turn their backs on them so easily, it wasn’t love in the first place,” Jennifer points out.

“We’ll just have to love them extra hard now, to make up for the love they should have gotten from them,” Dudley says.

“And that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Jennifer agrees.

 

“Hey, kids, can we come in?” Dudley asks as he knocks on Brittany’s door, both his children merely nod from where they are sitting on Brittany’s bed, “we want to know how you guys are.”

“Why do grandma and grandpa hate magic so much?” Brittany asks.

“They just don’t understand it, honey, it scares them,” Dudley tries to explain.

“It scares you too,” Brittany points out, “but you don’t hate us.”

“Your grandparents don’t hate you,” Dudley replies.

“Don’t they, though?” Donovan asks, making both his parents trade nervous looks.

“I’m sure they’ll come around with time,” Dudley says, not quite believing it.

“They seem to have had a lot of time,” Brittany says, “I mean, they knew about uncle Harry.”

“Did they really lock him inside a cupboard?” Donovan asks for the second time; Jennifer stares reproachfully at Dudley.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Dudley says, running a hand through his face in anguish.

“So they did,” Donovan murmurs, mostly to himself, “and what did you do?”

“I’m sorry?” Dudley asks.

“Did you help get him out that time they locked him in there?” Donovan clarifies, making Jennifer gasp and Dudley’s blood run cold.

“I — I —” Dudley begins to stammer. Cold sweat starts trailing down his back and he’s starting to hyperventilate again. A warm hand on his lower back keeps him from falling down.

“Dudley, try sitting down on the bed,” Jennifer tells him and Dudley follows her lead mindlessly.

“Are you okay, dad?” Brittany asks concerned.

“Your dad made a lot of mistakes when he was young,” Dudley begins to say when he’s able to gather his thoughts, “I was taught to hate your uncle Harry, though I didn’t really know why, not until he turned eleven, and after that I was taught to fear him, to think that if he’d lived inside the cupboard, it had been for our own protection.”

“Wait, he lived there?” Donovan asks appalled, “I thought it had been a one-time thing or something.”

“No, no it wasn’t,” Dudley says, feeling a new breakdown approach, “he lived inside the cupboard under the stairs for ten years.” He buries his head in his hands when he hears his children gasp.

“Kids, you have to understand your father was taught to hate magic since he was a little boy,” Jennifer intervenes.

“I swear, I’ve been trying very hard to do better, to make up for all that happened when we were kids,” Dudley says imploringly.

“Dad …” Brittany says, sounding scared, “I don’t want to go to grandma and grandpa’s anymore.”

“You won’t have to,” Dudley assures her immediately, “you will never have to face them again, I promise you that.”

“You won’t let them pull me out of Hogwarts?” Donovan asks.

“They’ll have to go through me for that,” Dudley promises, “look, kids, your grandparents … they’ll either come around or they won’t, but you two have your mum and me, alright? Never doubt that, okay?”

“You don’t wish I had gone to Smeltings instead?” Donovan asks.

“No, we don’t,” Jennifer answers immediately.

“I mean, it is my old school,” Dudley says with a small shrug, “but you’re happy at Hogwarts, I’d never dream of sending you anywhere else.”

“Now, your father told you in his last letter that we would go for ice-cream on your first day back so you could tell us all about the end your first year, and that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Jennifer says, “so, come on, let’s get going, I want to hear all about your House winning the House Cup.”

 

The day of Donnie’s return from spending his first year at Hogwarts is followed by weeks of complete silence from Dudley’s parents. Dudley’s not too grieved about it, mostly relieved, he thinks his children feel safer that way. The only contact Dudley has with either of them is when his father barks orders at him at Grunnings, but still, the eldest Dursley seems to be doing his best to avoid his son.

A letter appears inside the Dursley’s mailbox in the middle of July and this time, not only is Dudley ready for it, but he’s actively expecting it.

Ms. B. Dursley  
Second Room down the Hall  
11 Lilac Lane  
Little Whinging  
Surrey

“Hey, Britt, you’ve got post!”

“YES!” Brittany hollers as she stomps down the stairs. When Dudley catches himself smiling, he realises he doesn’t really wish his kids had gone to Smeltings instead, not anymore, not when he’d been waiting for this very letter for months now.

 

When the doorbell rings the following weekend at eleven in the morning, Dudley is eager to open the door and let Harry in. They arranged to go that day to London to shop for school supplies, though he’s surprised that his cousin arrived earlier than they had agreed. Jennifer and the kids are not home yet and Dudley’s not expecting Harry yet. Though it’s not Harry on the other side of the door, it’s his mother.

“Mum? What are you doing here?” Dudley asks dumbfounded.

“I just want to talk to you,” Petunia says pleadingly, “just talk.”

“Alright, come in,” Dudley says, making way for his mother to come inside. Petunia heads to the living room but doesn’t sit on the couches, instead she stands awkwardly in the middle of the room and waits for Dudley to close the door and join her.

“What’s going on?” Dudley asks.

“We just want you to reconsider —” Petunia begins.

“Mum, come on!” Dudley interrupts her.

“Please, Dudley, just listen,” Petunia begs, “I’m not trying to fight here, I just want you to think of what’s best for Donnie and Brittany.”

“I’m not pulling them out of Hogwarts,” Dudley insists, making Petunia look increasingly distraught.

“That place …” Petunia spits, trying to convey all her disgust in just those two words, “that life … it’s not natural.”

“Mum, come on, I think we both know what side of the family they got it from, and it wasn’t from dad’s,” Dudley tells her.

“Dudley!” Petunia gasps scandalised.

“It comes from your side, mum. Your sister had magic, now your grandkids do. It just skipped us,” Dudley goes on.

“Then we got lucky,” Petunia spits.

“I don’t believe you really think that,” Dudley counters, “all these years, I always wondered if the reason why you hated Harry’s mum so much is because she left you behind.”

“Don’t say that, don’t say that!” Petunia shrieks in tears.

“It skipped us,” Dudley repeats, sadness tinging his voice, “we just have to accept that.”

Petunia looks like she wants to argue further, but no word reaches her trembling lips. At that moment there’s a loud bang on the door and Dudley doesn’t have to try hard to guess who he’ll find on the other side when he opens it.

“Come in, dad,” Dudley says without really looking at his father, who’s shoving his way past Dudley and making a beeline straight to his wife.

“Did you manage to get through that thick skull of his?” he barks, but Petunia shoots him a stern look. It is clear to Dudley that his mom demanded him to let her handle the situation and that she’s not exactly pleased with him barging in.

“We just want the best for your children, Dudley” Petunia pleads, turning her attention back to her son, “think about their future, what kind of life can they make if they go to that place?”

“Well, I don’t know, do I?” Dudley responds, “they’re elven and twelve, they’ll have time to pick a career.”

“Who will hire them?” Petunia questions, “if all they know how to do is turn rats into —”

“Listen, Dudley,” Vernon interrupts, clearly not wanting to hear the end of that sentence, “we know that boy has money, he inherited a bloody house at sixteen, didn’t he? So his clown of a father must have been loaded before he got himself blown up —”

“If you knew what happened to Harry’s dad —” Dudley tries to interrupt, but his father goes on as if he hadn’t spoken.

“But real people in the real world need real jobs. What kind of future are they going to have if all they know how to do are magic tricks? Huh?”

“One better than mine at any rate,” Dudley mumbles to himself.

“What was that?” Vernon asks challengingly, making Dudley snap.

“I said I’d expect them to have a better future than I did, what with me nearly flunking at Smeltings, only graduating after you called in I don’t know how many favours, not being able to keep up with college and ending up working at the company my father works at because I couldn’t get a job anywhere else!” Dudley shouts angrily, making both his parents recoil. “Donnie was top of his class this year, did you know that?” he asks after regaining his breath, “wizard or muggle, he’s headed for a bright future.”

Vernon looks up at the ceiling in exasperation as he mumbles something about the word “muggle”. Clearly, that’s always been an insult to him, one that freaks came up with to refer to normal people. But once again, Petunia takes charge of the conversation.

“All the more reason to set Donnie back on the good path so his talent’s not squandered,” she insists, “what good-paying job could he possibly get if he graduates from that place?”

“Harry’s a wizard cop, he’s doing alright,” Dudley shrugs, “his wife’s a journalist —”

“He’s got a wife?” Vernon asks repulsed.

“And three kids,” Dudley adds just to spite his dad before carrying on, “one of his best friends works at the Ministry and another one owns a shop.”

“For _their_ Ministry, isn’t that right?” Vernon asks derisively.

“The Ministry of Magic, yes,” Dudley confirms, and Petunia closes her eyes in horror at the concept.

“Not a real job, then,” Vernon declares.

Dudley wants to argue, answer something along the lines of “it pays them real money, doesn’t it?”, but decides it would be futile. Plus, he’s saved from having to say anything else by the doorbell ringing. Dudley heads for the door automatically and only realises it’s probably Harry on the other side when he twists the doorknob. He hesitates for a second, but reckons having Harry there is probably the swiftest way to get rid of his parents before Jennifer and the kids return. He’s adamant about not letting his parents anywhere near Donovan and Brittany until they can prove it will be safe for them, if that can ever happen, anyway.

Dudley opens the door and finds a smiling Harry and his son Albus on the other side. His cousin immediately realises something is wrong just from looking at his face, but Dudley merely opens the door wider so Harry and Albus can see Vernon and Petunia in the living room.

“Come on in, this should be fun,” Dudley sighs resigned.

Harry walks inside the house followed by his very confused son, and Dudley forces himself not to cringe when his parents notice their visitors.

“You!” Vernon growls accusingly at Harry, “this is all your fault!”

“Dudley, what is he doing here?” Petunia asks scandalised and, being mad as he is, Dudley feels a perverse twinge of pleasure at the fact that, of all of Harry’s kids, the one that came today with him is the one that resembles him the most, so Dudley’s parents can have their horror doubled. Also, Dudley knows his mother must be simply horrified by Albus’ rebellious messy hair tied up in a careless ponytail.

“We’re going to London to get the kids’ stuff for Hogwarts,” Dudley says, managing to sound composed and feeling incredibly proud of that, but Vernon seems to have had enough and shoves Petunia out of the way to get right in Harry’s face.

“You did something to my grandchildren!” he bellows furiously, “I know you did! They were perfectly normal until —”

“They were not normal,” Dudley says exasperated, “they’re special and we were blind, that’s different.”

“And now they’re being shipped off to that blasted loony bin you went to. I won’t allow it!” Vernon goes on and, to Dudley’s surprise, Harry bursts out laughing.

“You won’t _allow_ it?” Harry parrots between laughs. “And what exactly —?”

“Don’t you dare mock me, boy —” Vernon begins to threaten.

“Dad …” Dudley interrupts, but Harry holds his hand up to stop him.

“I’ve got this, Dudley,” he says before turning back to Vernon, “actually, I’m glad I could bump into you, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” he says completely calm. Behind him, Albus’ eyes keep darting between his father, Dudley and Vernon.

“Oh, yeah? And what is that?” Vernon challenges.

“You didn’t win,” is all Harry says, practically spitting the words on his uncle’s face.

“Excuse me?” Vernon asks.

“You … didn’t … win,” Harry repeats, slowly this time, “you tried to break me, you didn’t just try to beat the magic out of me, you tried to actually break me, well, you didn’t win, neither of you,” he adds, throwing a contemptuous glance at Petunia.

“Well, maybe I should just try harder,” Vernon says, stepping even closer to Harry, his fist clenched on his side. Dudley fears his dad is going to punch Harry in the face, which can only end with a pig’s tail on Vernon’s rear, but once again all Harry does is laugh.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he asks, “you are not the worst monster I’ve faced, not even close, not even back then. You didn’t win and you wouldn’t have even if I weren’t a wizard. Because back when you kept me locked inside that cupboard, before I even knew about magic, I swore to myself I wouldn’t let you break me, and now I swear to you I won’t let you hurt Dudley or his children; you’ll have to go through me.”

Vernon is stunned by Harry’s words, so is Dudley. Half of him is touched that Harry would defend him after all he contributed in trying to break him, and the other half is simply in awe by how absolutely terrifying his cousin can make himself look without even going for his wand, which would be the simplest way to scare his parents, but Harry doesn’t seem to need that.

“Dad,” Dudley says after the silence in the room has stretched for too long, “Jennifer and the kids will be back any minute, and I promised Donnie and Britt that I wouldn’t let you two near them until I deem it’s safe for them. You need to leave, now.”

“Dudley!” Petunia gasps.

“I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind making some pig’s tails appear, for old time’s sake,” Dudley adds. Harry challenges Vernon with his eyes, without moving a muscle on his face. Dudley realises this is how his cousin must be at his job and feels for any criminal that’s unfortunate enough to bump into him.

“Come on, Petunia,” Vernon huffs without taking his eyes off of Harry, “it’s useless arguing with this lot.”

Petunia follows Vernon out the door, but before crossing the threshold she turns back at Dudley and tries one more time.

“Dudley, I beg you to reconsider,” she pleads, which sounds incredibly loud in the otherwise silent house.

“I’m not pulling them out,” Dudley repeats calmly. Petunia throws Harry and Albus a look of absolute revulsion; both father and son manage identical unimpressed and downright bored expressions, Dudley wants to high-five them. Petunia finally seems to give up and closes the door behind her with her nose upturned.

“Wow,” Albus says after a few quiet seconds. Both adults turn to him and see him staring at his father with wide and impressed eyes. Harry looks incredibly guilty in an instant. It’s clear he never wanted his children to see him in cop mode, and Dudley doesn’t know how much they know about the abuse Harry endured at his family’s hands.

“Al —” Harry tries to explain, but Albus cuts him off.

“All that Slytherin potential wasted,” is all the boy says.

“Seriously?” Harry asks in disbelief, like he can’t believe that’s what Albus decided to focus on. By now Dudley knows enough about his son’s school to know Albus is talking about his Hogwarts House.

“Standing up to your bully is a very Gryffindor thing to do,” Harry points out, apparently resigning to engage in the topic with his son.

“Deciding they won’t break you, hell, _swearing you’ll thrive_ just to spite them, that’s pure Slytherin,” Albus counters, “but you had to go and ask the Hat to be placed in Gryffindor,” he sighs shaking his head in fake disappointment.

“You can ask the Hat for a House?” Dudley asks perplexed. That goes against everything Harry and Donnie had told him about the sorting.

“This one did,” Albus huffs annoyed, pointing at his dad with his thumb, “a great asset the Slytherin House lost that day.”

“Well, you make up for it in spades. You’re the slytherinest Slytherin to ever slytherin,” Harry offers and Albus grins at him, then Harry turns his attention to Dudley. “Are you okay?”

“Not the first fight I have with them about that particular subject,” Dudley shrugs, though his legs are still shaking. He can’t begin to imagine what it must’ve been for Harry, enduring sixteen years of that. At that moment, the sound of a key being inserted inside the lock signals the arrival of Jennifer and the kids. “I’ll tell you on the way there,” Dudley says.

 

“So they figured it out on their own?” Harry asks befuddled as they walk through the crowd in Diagon Alley, “really? Vernon and Petunia?”

“Turns out making up a fake boarding school is not as easy as it seems,” Dudley shrugs as he watches Brittany grill Albus about Hogwarts a few feet ahead of them. Next to them, Donnie has his nose buried inside a study guide Albus bought and is apparently questioning him about owls.

“So what now?” Harry asks.

“I dunno,” Dudley shrugs, “today was the first contact they’ve made since they ambushed us at King’s Cross, so who knows. I like it better when they don’t make any, if I’m completely honest.”

“I know what you mean,” Harry agrees, “silence is always better than Vernon’s tantrums.”

“Tantrums,” Dudley chuckles, “I think the word you’re looking for is abuse.”

“Well — I —” Harry stammers, visibly startled; Dudley laughs.

“I know he’s my dad but you can say it like it is. I’m under no delusions that that man is not abusive. Hell, Jen even believes they abused _me_.”

“Well … they kind of did,” Harry replies cautiously.

“Well, whatever, they’re not doing it to my kids, I won’t allow it and that’s what matters,” Dudley says abruptly, still refusing to dwell too much on how everyone seems to think he was abused too. He’s saved from thinking about it any longer by they arrival at Ollivanders.

Brittany is chosen by an unyielding spruce and dragon heartstrings wand. They are told spruce wood tends to chose bold spell-casters and Brittany looks smug and satisfied with that information.

“You’ve got a wand now, Brittany,” Dudley tells his daughter, “no more underage magic from you or you’ll get a letter from the Ministry.”

“Aw, I wanted to try it,” Brittany says as she points her brand new wand at a couple of men carrying an old sofa out of a shop.

“Don’t make your uncle Harry have to arrest you,” Jennifer says, making Harry chuckle.

“Let me just levitate that ‘for rent’ sign on that shop and I’ll put it away till September,” Brittany begs.

“You think you can do that?” Harry asks incredulous.

“She’s been reading Donnie’s theory books all year, she’s even managed to do some not-so-accidental magic without a wand,” Dudley explains.

“Impressive,” Harry concedes with surprise.

“So, can I?” Brittany begs.

“Britt …” Dudley warns.

“Alright, alright, I’ll wait,” Brittany pouts.

“Oh, come on, don’t pout,” Dudley tells her, “we’re about to get you your pet.” That seems to make Brittany forget all about her new wand.

 

“What happens if I don’t choose an owl?” Brittany asks when they arrive at the Magical Menagerie.

“You can use one of the school’s owls,” Albus tells her.

“Or you can use Giansar, he loves you” Donovan suggests.

“I like this cat,” Brittany says, pointing at a medium-sized Bengal cat with white fur, dark stripes and spots and green eyes.

“Do cats and owls get along?” Donovan asks.

“They usually do,” Harry shrugs.

“I want this one,” Brittany insists, “I’ll call her Tigress.”

“Tigress it is,” Dudley says as he heads to the counter to pay for their new pet.

 

The sun has already gone down by the time they all return to Lilac Lane, with Dudley’s car packed with two sets of books and uniforms, a pet carrier and several miscellaneous supplies. When they get inside Dudley’s house, Brittany runs to introduce her new cat to Donovan’s owl.

“So … are you gonna be okay?” Harry asks Dudley.

“I think we will,” Dudley says, “no matter what they think or try to do, they’re not stopping Donnie and Britt from going to Hogwarts.”

“I’ll see you on September first then,” Harry says.

“We’ll see you there,” Dudley agrees, “hey, I’ve always wanted to ask, how do you two get here? You never bring a car.”

“We apparate,” Harry explains, “there are some bushes that hide us from sight outside your house, we usually pop up there.”

“You apparate?” Donovan asks excitedly, “I’ve never seen someone apparate. Can’t you do it here?”

“Well …” Harry says doubtfully, looking at Dudley for permission.

“Go right ahead, I better get used to all of it, right?” Dudley answers.

“Alright, then,” Harry says happily, taking his son’s hand, “see you in September.”

“Goodbye,” Albus says and an instant later, they’re both gone.

“Wow,” Donnie exhales in awe, “I can’t wait to learn how to do that.”

Dudley must admit, travelling anywhere in the blink of an eye does sound appealing.

 

September arrives and the Dursleys find themselves once again at platform nine and three-quarters, this time pushing two trolleys instead of one. Dudley sees Albus first, chatting animatedly with his friend Scorpius. Harry is not too far ahead, saying good-bye to his other two children.

“Look out for your sister,” Dudley instructs Donovan.

“Write back as soon as you get settled,” Jennifer tells both of them.

“We want to know all about the House you get into,” Dudley says to Brittany.

“I’ll write, and I’ll send you some of the sweets I buy on the train,” Brittany promises.

“Chocolate frogs, preferably, those every-flavour beans are a menace,” Dudley asks.

“Chocolate frogs it is,” Brittany laughs.

“See you on Christmas,” Donnie says happily before he and his sister turn on their heels and run to the train.

“Not so hard the second year, is it?” Harry asks Dudley and Jennifer with a smile.

“No, not so hard the second year,” Dudley has to agree.

 

Dudley expects the second year of sending his children to magic school would be mostly like the first, and for a while, it is. The first letter they get informs them that Brittany’s been sorted in Gryffindor, the House of the brave, and when Dudley thinks of how she stood up to her grandparents, terrifying them them halfway to death in the process, he has to agree. Then a letter from Donovan arrives a few weeks into the term.

 

Dear mom and dad,

Hi there! How’s everything going over there? Here everything’s great, though the classes have gotten increasingly harder.

We’re learning how to conjure stuff in Transfig, just small things, like small fires and stuff. Conjuring large objects is advanced magic, mostly for sixth and seventh-years. We’re also tending to baby Mandrakes in Herbology and it’s harder than it looks, they just won’t stop kicking!

Uncle Harry showed up at our Defence Against the Dark Arts class the other day, you know how he told us he pops by every once in a while? Well, he taught us the Disarming Charm! And he said I did a pretty good job casting it. It is so strange, watching him in class. We only know him as Uncle Harry, but here he’s a war hero and many students get nervous just from him making rounds around the classroom, can you believe it?

Oh, and I didn’t tell you, I figured out a riddle to the entrance to our common room that nobody could solve, not even the seventh-years. The knocker said “A wizard pointed his wand and turned a rock into an apple, how was it possible?”. And everyone was freaking out because technically that’s not possible, because that’s one of the Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, but I mulled it over for a while and I said the rock was originally an apple, and turns out my logic was right! The door opened and even the seventh-years were impressed.

Anyway, everyone in my year is freaking out about Quidditch, since we can play now. The trials for our team were a few days ago and, as you can imagine, I sat them out. I did go to support a couple of friends, though. We won’t know who made it in the team till a couple of days.

I hope you and mom are doing great and aren’t too lonely with Britt and me gone. I’ll write to you soon!

Love,  
Donnie

 

Dudley stares at the parchment in stunned silence and rereads the letter a couple more times before setting his eyes on a random spot of ink and staring blankly at it. That’s how his wife finds him when she walks in the kitchen.

“What is it, Duds?” she asks. Dudley silently hands her the letter from Donnie.

“I don’t think I got half of what he wrote in this,” he says.

“Well …” Jennifer says as she reads the letter, “we know what Quidditch is,” she offers.

“It’s not enough,” Dudley says, running his hand across his face, “it feels like we know less and less what he’s talking about with every passing letter.”

“I know, I feel it too,” Jennifer agrees, sadness in her voice.

“How are we even supposed to reply to this letter? ‘Oh, hey, that sounds great! We love you!’? This is exactly what I meant when I told Harry we’d lose him. He promised us we wouldn’t.” Dudley says in despair.

“We’re not losing him, we’re just …”

“Getting him less and less?”

“Yeah …” Jennifer sighs defeated.

“We said we were going to make up for their grandparents’ rejection, how are we even going to do that if we can’t even get what they’re talking about?” Dudley asks hopelessly, “what’s gonna happen when he needs help with his homework? I mean, I know I wouldn’t have been much help even if he’d gone to Smeltings, but this is completely out of my depth.”

“I know, mine too,” Jennifer agrees.

“We have to do something,” Dudley urges her.

 

Dudley mulls the situation over for several days, until one day he has enough and calls his cousin urging him to drop by his house. He tells him to feel free to appear inside the house and Dudley feels proud of himself for not even flinching when Harry materialises with a loud crack in the middle of his living room.

“What is it, Dudley?” Harry asks.

“I want to go to Hogwarts,” Dudley demands, “I want you to take me there.”

“What’s going on? Did something happen to Donnie or Brittany?” Harry asks concerned, but all he gets is Donnie’s letter shoved at his face.

“This is going on!” Dudley exclaims, “I don’t understand half the things my son wrote in this letter. You said I wouldn’t lose him, this sounds like losing him to me.”

“Well, I can answer any questions you have anytime, you know that,” Harry says as he pores over Donnie’s letter.

“It’s not just that. I want to see where my kids go to school. I took Jennifer to see Smeltings before Donnie’s letter arrived, it’s only natural for a parent to want to see where their children are going,” Dudley argues.

Harry remains in silence for a long while, long enough for Dudley to worry he’s going to be shut down.

“You told me I could always see them when I needed it,” Dudley insists, “and I know you go to Hogwarts to see your son play. Why can’t muggle parents visit too?”

“Yeah, you’re right, I know that,” Harry says at last, “it’s not fair to you, or any muggle parents for that matter, that you don’t get to be as involved as wizard parents are.”

“So, will you take me there?” Dudley asks hopeful.

“I will,” Harry confirms and Dudley feels like weight has been lifted from his heart, “how about I take you to the opening game of the Quidditch season? It’s usually in the middle of November.”

“That sounds great,” Dudley smiles, “I’d love to see what the fuss is all about. So, I’ll see you at King’s Cross?”

“How would you feel about apparating?” Harry asks him, “fair warning: it’s not the most pleasant feeling, but we could get there faster.”

Dudley considers the question carefully. So far, every time magic has been used on him, the results have been less than agreeable, and Harry just said appearing and disappearing is less than enjoyable. But if he wants to be more involved in his children’s lives, he’s going to have to be more at ease with magic happening around him.

“Yeah, alright, we’ll do it your way,” Dudley says finally, “pop by the day of the game.”

“Great,” Harry smiles, “I’ll see you here.”

“Thank you, Harry, it means a lot,” Dudley says, “specially after everything … you could’ve just let me deal with it on my own, but you’ve really taken us under your wing and that, well … I don’t take it for granted.”

“Don’t worry about it, Dudley,” Harry says, placing a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “we’re grown ups now, and dads. If anything, we can relate to that,” he adds and Dudley nods meekly at Harry’s words.

“Take care, Dudley,” Harry says before disappearing from his living room.

 

The day of the Quidditch match arrives and Dudley can’t help his nerves eating him from the inside out.

“I should’ve gotten some wizard robes the last time we were in Diagon Alley,” Dudley complains as he looks at himself in the mirror, dressed in khaki trousers and a chequered blue shirt, “are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asks, or rather pleads, to his wife for what’s possibly the tenth time.

“I told you, I can’t, not today,” Jennifer says, “I’ve got that thing.”

“That thing you won’t tell me about,” Dudley grunts.

“Alright, you wanna know?” Jennifer asks, “I didn’t want to say anything until I had something concrete, and until I knew what I want is actually doable, but, you remember how we talked about me going back to work after the kids were gone?”

Dudley remembers. Before Donnie’s letter arrived and changed everything, Dudley and Jennifer had talked about what they would do after both their kids were at Smeltings.

“I’m thinking about opening a business,” Jennifer goes on, “I’m still not sure of all the specifics, but I’ll be checking out some premises today.”

“Oh,” Dudley says surprised, “that’s great.” He doesn’t know what else to say, he knows his wife doesn’t like to talk about her projects until they’re tangible, so he doesn’t press for details.

“So, I’d love to go and check Hogwarts out, and I’m sure I will someday, but today, you and Harry have fun, try not to have a stroke and remember our kids go there, so don’t do anything embarrassing,” Jennifer tells him seriously.

“Hey, I resent that!” Dudley complains, but his wife just chuckles and gives him a soft peck on the lips.

“You should finish getting ready,” she says, “Harry should be here any minute.”

 

When Harry shows up that morning, it’s the first time Dudley sees him dressed in wizard clothing. He’s sporting black robes with crimson flaps, and a striped red and gold jumper underneath. Dudley feels more and more underdressed with every passing minute. His wife gives him a silent look that promises a shopping trip to Diagon Alley in the near future.

“Hey there, Harry,” Dudley greets his cousin.

“Hello, Dudley, Jennifer,” Harry says, “ready to go?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Dudley replies, “we’re leaving now?”

“We’ll make a short stop at my house first, I’m sure there are some robes you can borrow,” Harry says, “I should’ve thought of bringing some, actually.”

“Well, have fun, you two,” Jennifer says.

“You’re not coming?” Harry asks.

“Not this time, so make sure Dudley here doesn’t get in trouble,” Jennifer teases.

“Hey, once again, I resent that,” Dudley sulks, earning himself an affectionate pat on the arm from Jennifer.

“Alright then, grab my hand, Dudley, and, well, sorry in advance because it’s gonna be unpleasant,” Harry tells him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dudley says resigned as he takes his cousin’s hand, “see you later, Jen.”

“I’ll bring him back in one piece, I promise,” Harry says as he tightens his grip on Dudley; a second later everything around Dudley goes black.

The sensation is unlike anything Dudley’s ever experienced so far. His chest tightens to an almost painful degree, and he feels like several hydraulic presses were squashing him from all directions, he can actually feel himself shrinking into himself, until all of a sudden he’s being released.

Dudley gasps and tries to shove as much oxygen as he can into his lungs as Harry releases his hand and pats him on the back.

“You okay?” he asks softly and Dudley just nods as he pants for more air, bending over and holding onto his knees.

“You were not kidding,” Dudley says when he recovers.

“It’s actually my least favourite form of travelling, but the only one I really like is flying on a broom, so, it’s not like I have many options,” Harry shrugs, but Dudley’s not listening, he’s looking around the place they just landed on, taking in everything that reaches his eyes.

He’s standing on a living room not unlike his own. He doesn’t know what he expected Harry’s house to look like, but the place looks perfectly normal in his opinion, almost idyllically suburban. There are, of course, some key differences, the main one being the moving pictures inside every frame. Though once he sets his eyes on them, he realises they’re not that different from the ones he’s got on his bookshelves and mantel: they all display a happy family smiling and waving at the camera.

“Wizarding population is actually pretty high in this town,” Harry tells him, “though a lot of muggles live here too, so we’ve got electricity and stuff. Come on, let’s get you some clothes.”

Dudley follows Harry upstairs and into his bedroom, which also looks like a perfectly normal bedroom in Dudley’s opinion.

“I doubt you’ll have anything my size,” Dudley mumbles as Harry rummages through his closet, which is filled in equal parts with muggle and wizard clothes.

“Not a problem,” Harry replies as he pulls out a set of navy blue robes with gold flaps, then pointing his magic wand at it. The garment expands enough to fit Dudley’s considerably larger frame, “try them on.”

Dudley does as he’s told and discovers the resized robes do fit him.

“Great!” Harry grins, “now, let’s go, time for another fun trip.”

Reluctantly, Dudley takes Harry’s hand for the second time.

 

His second apparating experience is marginally better now that he knew what to expect. Dudley and Harry land in the middle of a quaint village. The second Dudley sees the people walking down the street, he realises he’s probably the only muggle in miles.

“This is Hogsmeade, the last remaining wizard-only town in Britain,” Harry tells him, “we’ll have to walk from here, we can’t apparate directly at Hogwarts. It’s a short walk, don’t worry.”

As they walk along the main street, Harry points Dudley to the village’s post office, the joke shop, the sweetshop, whose window has Dudley salivating, and several other Hogsmeade landmarks. Then they reach the gates of a very old and ruined construction.

“My kids go there?” Dudley asks horrified, but an instant later the ruins shift before his eyes and in their place stands a majestic and imposing castle. Old, definitely, but far from abandoned, “oh … wow.”

Harry walks him around the lake, where Dudley remembers a giant squid lives, and to a place surrounded by impossibly tall wooden stands. Dudley figures that’s the Quidditch pitch.

“Come on,” Harry tells him as he takes him to a side of the stands where almost everyone is dressed in red and gold. “Gryffindor plays Slytherin in the opening match. The rivalry between the teams makes everyone invested in the game.”

“Aren’t those yours and Albus’ Houses?” Dudley asks.

“Yep,” Harry confirms, “James is Gryffindor’s Captain, Albus’ best mate is Slytherin’s.”

Dudley squints as he looks down to the pitch, and sure enough, James Potter and Scorpius Malfoy, the blond kid that helped film Donovan’s Flying lessons, are in the middle of the field shaking hands.

A woman in black robes blows her whistle and she and other fourteen people take off from the ground on their broomsticks.

“Tamara Pembrock has the Quaffle … she passes the ball to Andrew Dunbar, who passes to Irving Bletchley. Slytherin finished last in last year’s tournament and is eager to show what it’s got to the defending champion,” says a female voice that booms through the stands.

“Bletchley throws back to Pembrock … Pembrock heads for the goalposts … she aims … and SCORE!!!! Slytherin starts the game ten-zero!” The half of the stands opposite to where Dudley and Harry are sitting explodes in cheers, while the crowd in red and gold groans its disappointment.

The concept of Quidditch already sounded brutal to Dudley when it was first explained to him, but watching live how teenagers dodge magical cannon balls while flying on brooms and shove each other away as they wrestle a ball from each other shows Dudley how much his imagination fell short. He winces every time the black flying balls hit someone, and gasps when one of the players almost falls off his broom trying to hit one of them with his bat. Dudley tries to distract himself going over the rules again.

“So every time they score with the red ball it’s ten points,” he says, just as a green-clad player ties the score ninety to ninety.

“That’s right. And when the Seeker finds the Snitch, that’s the small golden ball with wings, that’s one hundred and fifty points and the game ends,” Harry says.

“What happens if they don’t find it?” Dudley asks.

“They keep playing with substitutes and the game goes on until they do. I think the record is three months, but that’s rare in school games,” Harry replies, seemingly unconcerned about a game lasting three bloody months.

Dudley mustn’t worry about that day’s game, though, as soon after the commentator alerts the audience of the chase going on in the pitch, where James Potter and a girl with curly auburn hair fly next to each other apparently oblivious to the other flying balls zooming past them.

“It looks like both Seekers have spotted the Snitch! That’s right, Gryffindor’s James Potter is only slightly ahead of Slytherin’s Samantha Gosforth … Scott Rowstock and Gary Baker expertly send Bludgers their way to protect their own Seekers … Potter and Gosforth dodge the Bludgers … Gosforth is catching up to Potter … Potter’s almost got the Snitch in his hand … both Seekers are head to head now … AND SAMANTHA GOSFORTH CATCHES THE SNITCH!!!! Slytherin wins the game 270 to 130!”

The crowd on the other side of the pitch explodes in euphoria and starts pouring down onto the field to celebrate with the wining team. Dudley sees James and Scorpius shake hands amicably moments before Albus Potter shows up and tackles Scorpius to trap him in an excited hug.

“Your son doesn’t look so mad,” Dudley points out.

“Oh, he is, undoubtedly, just not at anyone on the Slytherin team. He always gets angry at himself,” Harry tells him, “come on, let’s go with him.”

They make their way to the field, where the Slytherins have formed a tight mass celebrating their win, while the Gryffindors retreat dejectedly from the pitch. James spots his dad and that makes him smile, though faintly.

“Hey there, dad,” he greets sadly.

“Hey there, son,” Harry replies, “you were great out there, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Al’s been coaching the Slytherins on sprinting, and they let him join them when they train,” James explains, “he certainly gave Samantha Gosforth an edge because she didn’t fly like that last year.”

“Looks like you’ll have to step up your game,” Harry tells him.

“Looks like it,” James shrugs before realising who’s standing next to Harry and balking almost comically, “uncle Dudley?”

“Hey,” Dudley greets.

“What are you doing here?” James asks, eying Dudley’s wizard robes.

“Dudley wanted to see where Donnie and Britt go to school so I brought him here,” Harry explains.

“You smuggled a muggle?” James asks giddily, making Harry laugh at his choice of words.

“Looks like I did,” he says, “I’m going to show Dudley around, don’t be too hard on yourself, alright, kid? You’ll win next game.”

“Sure, dad. See you, uncle Dudley,” James says before following the rest of his team to the locker rooms.

“He’s going to sulk about it all the way to Christmas break, then he’ll train nonstop until their next game in March,” Harry tells Dudley as they watch him go, “come on, I’ll show you the castle.”

Harry walks Dudley through Hogwarts hallways, filled with moving portraits and wandering ghosts; Dudley tries his best not to flinch every time he spots one. Being a Saturday, there’s little activity inside the classrooms, except for some kids playing with some kinds of marbles in what Harry calls the Gobstone Club and the classroom that has been claimed by the school newspaper.

They are walking past one of the few classrooms with people in them when Dudley hears his son’s voice.

“Check.”

Dudley peeks inside the room and sees it filled with several tables where kids are sitting in pairs playing chess. His son is in one of them, sitting with his back to the door and sporting the robes they bought him at Diagon Alley as well as a Ravenclaw scarf around his neck. Opposite to him, a kid in a red tie is frowning at the board, where the pieces, Dudley is surprised to find, are moving and apparently trying to give their player advice.

The other boy hesitantly takes a knight, which protests as he’s being lifted, and sets it elsewhere on the board. Not two seconds later one of Donnie’s pawns uses its miniature sword to charge at the knight, which is sent flying across the board and onto the wooden surface of the table.

“And checkmate,” Donnie says smugly. His opponent stares at the board looking for any way to contradict Donnie, but the pieces on his side of the board are already regrouping and walking back to their box, not unlike how the crestfallen players on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team had done earlier that day. The boy looks up and is startled to see Dudley and Harry at the door.

“It’s Harry Potter!” he gasps, making Donnie turn around and his eyes almost bulge out when he sees his father. Donnie bolts straight to the door to meet them.

“Dad? Uncle Harry? What are you doing here?” he asks, looking surprised but happy nonetheless.

“Oh, just visiting, I wanted to see where you go to school,” Dudley replies bashfully. Donnie looks up widely at him like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“And? What do you think?” he asks.

“Well … it’s certainly not Smeltings,” Dudley replies, “I just watched a Quidditch game.”

“And you’re completely freaking out,” Donnie laughs, “just remember I don’t like sports, magical or otherwise.”

“That’s a big comfort,” Dudley agrees, “so, this is what you do on the weekends?”

“Wizard Chess Club,” Donnie confirms, “I found I am good at it.”

“I could see that,” Dudley says.

“I’m also not bad at Defence Against the Dark Arts, isn’t that right, uncle Harry?”

“Not bad at all,” Harry agrees with a placid smile, “you did a very good job with the Disarming Charm,” he adds and Donnie preens.

“Have you seen your sister?” Dudley asks.

“She’s probably out there somewhere exploring the castle. Gryffindors love to find all the hidden rooms and passages,” Donnie shrugs.

“Hey, Donnie, stop asking for autographs and play with me!” a boy with a green tie calls behind Donnie.

“I better go, before they all swarm in here asking uncle Harry for an autograph,” Donnie says, “I’ll leave you to your tour, I can’t wait to hear what you think of it. Oh, and you should take my dad to Hogsmeade, uncle Harry, some third years brought us stuff from Honeydukes, he’s gonna love them.”

“I sure will, Donnie,” Harry promises.

“Alright, I’ll see you soon, and dad,” Donnie says.

“Yeah?”

“I’m very happy you decided to come,” Donnie says with a huge smile brightening his face.

“I’m glad I did too,” Dudley replies as his son happily marches back to the tables, where the kid with the green tie has already set his pieces on the board. Donnie looks right at home in his wizard robes and Ravenclaw scarf, Dudley finds he loves it.

“Come on,” Harry prods him, “I’ll keep showing you around.”

Harry takes him outside the castle, where he shows him the edges of the Forbidden Forest and Dudley adamantly refuses to visit the gamekeeper at his hut. He might be accepting of magic now, but he draws the line at talking to the man that gave him a pig’s tail. Harry doesn’t push and takes him back to Hogsmeade instead.

“Does Donnie come here?” Dudley asks as they walk along the village’s cobbled main street.

“Not yet, but students in third year and up can if their parents sign a permission slip,” Harry answers.

“Who signed yours?” Dudley asks.

“My godfather,” Harry says, longing colouring his words. They stop at a pub called The Three Broomsticks, where Harry leads him to a table and asks for two butterbeers.

“So, what’s a Mandrake?” Dudley asks as they wait for their drinks.

“A plant with a sentient root that kicks and cries when you transplant it. It’s a rather tough task,” Harry explains.

“And that riddle he was able to solve?” Dudley goes on as the tankards with beers arrive. Dudley takes a sip and has trouble refraining from moaning at how good it tastes. The beverage runs warm all the way through his body.

“You can’t conjure food out of thin air, it’s impossible, and you can’t turn stuff into food either. The only way it could happen is if the apple was turned into a stone first and the wizard turned it back,” Harry tells him. The riddle makes sense to Dudley now, but he realises he can’t run to Harry every time he comes across something he doesn’t understand.

“What am I going to do when they need help with their homework? I even need to get their letters translated,” he asks distraught.

“Well, you could always learn the theory like Brittany did last year, you could at least help them with that,” Harry offers, “but I wouldn’t worry. They’re not going to ask you to understand their classes, they’re going to ask you to support them while they take them.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough,” Dudley sighs, “I can’t just pat myself on the back for not locking them inside a cupboard and leave it at that.”

“You don’t need to make up for your parents’ flaws,” Harry tells him.

“Sure I do!” Dudley refutes, “they lost their grandparent’s love the day Donnie returned home, I have to make up for that!”

“They know you and Jennifer love them, as long as that doesn’t change, they’re going to be alright. You saw how happy Donnie got today when he saw you, that’s all they’re ever going to ask for.”

“I don’t want them to have the childhood you had,” Dudley mumbles miserably.

“Theirs is nothing like mine,” Harry argues, “you may not immediately understand what their letters are about, but at least they have someone to write them to in the first place, I didn’t have that. I used to sit and watch Hermione write long letters to her parents, telling them all about what it was like to be a witch, and my first year I got really sad that I had nobody who would care about how I was doing at school.”

“How did you get over it?” Dudley asks curiously, not used to dwell on what their teenage years were like for Harry, mostly because the guilt that overcomes him is too much.

“In the end, you learn that family is the one you make for yourself, with the people that love you unconditionally, and a few years down the line, I suddenly realised I had people to write letters to. For me, that was Ron, Hermione and the Weasleys; for Donnie and Britt, it will be those who are there for them, including their parents,” Harry tells him.

“But not their grandparents,” Dudley says mournfully.

“Not until they come around, but you never know, people can surprise you,” Harry says, “they are their grandchildren, if anyone could make them turn their views around it would be them, right?”

“They turned their backs on them so easily,” Dudley seethes, “it angers me how easily they could do it, like they were nothing."

“That’s their problem,” Harry tells him, “not Donnie’s, not Britt’s, not Jennifer’s and not yours.”

“They kept trying to change them, you know,” Dudley goes on, “pushing Donnie to sports so he would desist on astronomy, making comments on what clothes we should buy for Brittany. They kept dolling her up, like God forbid she wanted a pair of trainers and sweatpants.”

“Sounds like they wouldn’t have loved them even if they weren’t magical at all,” Harry points out.

“I think that’s what angers me the most, that they never really loved them, and it hurts even more because …” Dudley trails off and clutches his butterbeer tankard tightly, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “how do I even know if they loved me?” he chokes.

“I think they do in their own way,” Harry says, “they always tried to give you everything.”

“Have you ever wondered if they spoiled me so much because they wanted to bring you down rather than because they actually cared for me? That thought keeps me up at night sometimes,” Dudley admits.

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Harry says.

“Why not? They loved pointing out how I got thirty-nine birthday presents and you got none. What kind of kid gets thirty-nine birthday presents? It’s insane!” Dudley argues.

“I think …” Harry begins, and Dudley can tell he’s trying very carefully to choose his words, and it warms his heart that he would refrain from speaking ill of his aunt and uncle just for Dudley’s benefit. Harry really didn’t deserve what he went through. “I think Vernon and Petunia simply can’t do things halfway. They either love you too much or hate you too much. There’s no middle ground for them, you either get spoiled or abused.”

“That’s not love,” Dudley counters, “spoiling you until you can’t do anything by yourself anymore is not love, and if it is, it’s a rather toxic one.” His voice breaks at his last words and the dam behind his eyelids finally breaks, the tears he’s been fighting since they sat at their table start trailing down his face. Finally, after years of avoiding it, Dudley can see the truth everyone else saw before him. His parents abused him. Not by hitting him or neglecting him or starving him, but by spoiling him until he could barely function normally, until there was barely any trace of humanity left in him. Harry’s hand landing softly on his arm and his green eyes shinning bright with sympathy let Dudley know Harry can see the realisation he’s having.

“Maybe they just don’t know how to love,” Harry suggests, “I think they did try with you.”

“That’s not an excuse, not when people get hurt, not when … kids get hurt,” Dudley sobs. “I resent them so much.”

And for once, Harry doesn’t offer any advice, he probably knows there’s nothing he could say that could make it better, he just scoots closer to him and puts his arm around Dudley, and lets him cry on his shoulder. _I don’t deserve this_ , Dudley thinks as he lets the cousin he bullied for years comfort him. _Harry seems to have forgiven you, maybe you should too_ , Jennifer’s voice says inside his head. _They didn’t win_ , her voice says. Hadn’t Harry said something like that too?

“They didn’t win,” Dudley mutters to himself.

“I’m sorry?” Harry asks.

“They didn’t win. That’s what you told them when they went to my house, and that’s what Jennifer told me too. They didn’t win.”

“No, they didn’t,” Harry agrees.

“Not with you, not with me either,” Dudley says, not sobbing anymore.

“They didn’t win,” Harry repeats, and those three words, that small mantra, warm him up like a mouthful of butterbeer.

 

Harry apparates Dudley back at Little Whinging late into the night. What they find at Dudley’s house is a very agitated Jennifer surrounded by various documents and papers scattered all over the living room.

“Hey …” Dudley says cautiously, “we’re back.” Jennifer looks up at them but her eyes immediately zero in on Harry.

“Harry! Great, just the person I wanted to talk to,” she says.

“What’s up?” Harry asks.

“I just went to London today, I wanted to open a bank account at Gringotts, and I got refused by the goblins that work there,” Jennifer explains.

“You drove to London?” Dudley asks in shock.

“I’m not sure they open accounts for muggles, but I’ll look into it,” Harry offers, clearly surprised by the request.

“Why do you need a Gringotts account?” Dudley asks, “wait, how did you even get inside Diagon Alley?”

“That’s another thing, I had to wait for a wizard to use his wand to reveal the entrance,” Jennifer says.

“I’m sure there’s an entrance that doesn’t require magic, I mean, squibs go there all the time. I’ll ask the owner of The Leaky Cauldron,” Harry promises.

“Squibs?” Jennifer asks.

“People with magical parents but born without magic, kind of the opposite of muggle-borns,” Harry explains, “is there something you need from Diagon Alley I could get for you?”

“I’m opening a business,” Jennifer announces.

“In Diagon Alley?” Dudley asks in shock.

“That’s the idea, if all the obtuse people, and goblins, I had to deal with today don’t get in the bloody way,” Jennifer huffs.

“What kind of business?” Harry asks curiously.

“When Donnie’s letter first came and that teacher showed up to tell us about Hogwarts, I didn’t know what to do,” Jennifer says, “and I don’t know what I would’ve done if Dudley hadn’t known about magic or hadn’t had a wizard cousin. And then I read that book about the wars, and I realised there are hundreds of people like our kids, muggle-borns that get a letter one day and suddenly their lives are turned around. And it got me wondering, where are the parents?”

“The parents?” Harry asks perplexed.

“Yes, all the other parents of all the other kids like Donnie and Britt, where are they?” Jennifer insists.

“Well … all over Britain, I reckon,” Harry answers unsurely.

“Think about how confused they must have been, without a magical relative to walk them through everything. Most of them probably had a hard time believing magic is even real,” Jennifer reasons, “what I want to do is set up a place where these parents can gather, I was thinking a coffee shop maybe, where muggle parents could meet other muggle parents, talk, answer each other questions, offer support, hell, talk about how we’re buying our kids parchment and quills instead of notebooks and ballpoint pens.”

Dudley stares in utter bewilderment at his wife’s speech. The concept of a place for muggle parents to gather doesn’t sound half bad, quite the opposite. He’s in absolute awe at the sight of Jennifer, who just came up with a perfectly structured business idea while he was out with Harry feeling sorry for himself.

“That’s … actually a pretty good idea,” Harry concedes.

“I’ve come up with a tentative business plan and an estimated budget for what I’ll need. It helps that Hogwarts doesn’t have tuition fees so we can use some of the money we had saved for Smeltings,” Jennifer says as she hands Harry a handful of the papers lying on the living room table, “and I even found the perfect place for it: there was a shop for rent when we went to get the kids’ stuff over the summer and the place is still available, the only problems are that the owner won’t rent it to a muggle and the goblins at the bank wouldn’t let me open an account.”

“Let me talk to Hermione, she works at the Ministry and she’s muggle-born, she’s been working hard to make the wizarding world more equal for muggle-borns and generally trying to make their lives better. She’s going to love this idea and I’m sure she’ll be happy to help,” Harry tells her.

“Will you? Harry that would be great. I’m sorry we keep dumping things on you,” Jennifer says.

“No need to thank me, the wizarding world needs more things like this, I mean, you’ve read about the war,” Harry replies.

“Thank you so much, Harry,” Jennifer says gratefully.

“Don’t mention it,” Harry says, “I’ll let you know as soon as I talk to Hermione, have a good night you two.”

“You too, Harry,” Jennifer says.

“Yeah, have a good night and, well … thank you, for everything,” Dudley says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry tells him and he disappears from their living room. Dudley looks around at all the papers covering their furniture and smiles.

“What?” Jennifer asks him.

“Nothing,” Dudley grins, “I just remembered what you were like during your last year at college. You were a bullet.” Jennifer laughs.

“It feels good being at it again,” she admits.

“The coffee shop sounds great. Though you’ll be bumping into many walls from the looks of it,” Dudley says.

“I’ll deal with it,” Jennifer shrugs, “should make it interesting, right?”

“Have I told you that I love you?” Dudley asks her.

“Not today, I think,” Jennifer says.

“Well, that’s just rude,” Dudley replies, scrunching his nose, “I love you.”

“And I love you,” Jennifer answers, closing the distance between them to give him a peck on the lips and throws her arms around her husband.

 

Hermione Granger visits the Dursley household the first weekend of Christmas break. By then, Jennifer has put together a very thick dossier, full with charts and budgets and prices. Hermione is very polite to Dudley, though he’s sure she must know about the hell he put her best friend through during their childhood and teenage years. That doesn’t stop her from showing her delight at getting to know Jennifer. Looks like Harry was right, she was very eager to help her get her plan in motion.

“I’ve looked through Gringotts policies and regulations, there’s nothing there about muggles being prohibited from opening an account. I think that’s mostly because no-one thought any muggle would even want to have one in the first place. In any case, there’s no legal reason a muggle should be denied,” Hermione tells them to Jennifer’s delight.

“I’ll write a letter to the manager anyways. I’ve pushed forward several regulations that guarantee the protection of goblin rights, so he should listen to me,” she goes on, “now, the other problem is the shop. Any owner can reserve the right to decide to whom they rent a property, so if he doesn’t want to rent, there’s no way anyone could force him. If the problem is that you’re muggle, I would suggest having one of your kids doing the paperwork, but they’re too young to rent a property.”

“I could rent the place,” Harry suggests, “hell, I could buy the place.”

“That’s too much, Harry, we can’t ask you to do that,” Dudley replies immediately.

“I wouldn’t mind,” Harry shrugs.

“Dudley’s right, that would be too much,” Jennifer says.

“If it would make you feel more comfortable, you could buy it from me, with monthly payments instead of paying rent, that way the place would be yours in the end, you would legally own it to do whatever you want with it and nobody can complain because it would be your property,” Harry suggests.

“That does sound like a viable option,” Hermione agrees, “if the shop owner is prejudiced against muggles, no matter what wizard lends his name to rent it, as soon as you set up a muggle business, he’ll terminate the contract.”

Dudley exchanges looks with his wife, and he knows they’re both thinking the same thing. Harry’s offer would solve all their problems but it feels like too much to ask from him.

“I just feel like we keep asking things from you, Harry,” Jennifer says at last, “and we can’t keep asking you to go out of your way to help us.”

“Don’t worry about that, I’m happy to help, really. I think what you’re trying to do is great, Jennifer, and I don’t mind in the least,” Harry assures her.

Dudley and Jennifer trade unsure glances one more time. Accepting Harry’s offer sounds tempting, so, so tempting.

“Come on, what’s there to think?” Harry insists with an easy-going smile.

 

Harry does end up buying the place. It takes a few weeks for the paperwork to be ready, but soon Harry becomes the legal owner of a small property sandwiched between a shop that sells second-hand brooms and one that sells all kinds of quills right in the middle of in Diagon Alley. Meanwhile, Hermione has managed to help Jennifer open an account at Gringotts and by the time Christmas break rolls by, the Dursleys are well on their way to opening their own business.

Donovan looks happy when Dudley and Jennifer pick their children up at King’s Cross for Christmas, but Brittany looks positively delighted and bursting with excitement as she runs to hug her dad.

“What’s it like being a witch?” Dudley asks her fondly.

“It’s the best thing ever!” Brittany beams.

The kids talk nonstop all the way back to Surrey, speaking over each other and jumping from one subject to the next, and they keep at it once they arrive at number 11, Lilac Lane.

“Professor Flitwick taught us how to do the Levitation Charm,” Brittany says excitedly.

“Oh, yeah, and how did it go?” Dudley asks.

“I was the first in my class to get it right. Professor Flitwick gave Gryffindor ten points for that, it was the first time I won my House points for getting a spell right first,” Brittany replies proudly.

“Any chance Gryffindor will win the Cup from Ravenclaw this year?” Dudley asks her.

“Fat chance,” Donnie intervenes, “Ravenclaw was on top by the end of the term.”

“With Gryffindor closely behind,” Brittany points out.

“Who knew inter-House rivalries were fun to watch when they’re not your school’s?” Dudley jokes.

 

A few nights into the break, Dudley finds his son poring over several leaflets scattered all over the kitchen table, his face scrunched up in concentration.

“Lots of homework for the break?” Dudley asks conversationally as he searches through the pantry for a clean mug to pour himself some coffee.

“I’m trying to figure out what electives to take for next year,” Donnie replies, “we must pick two, which add on to our already crammed schedule.”

“Alright, what are the options?” Dudley asks.

“There’s Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Introduction to Magical Healing and Study of Ancient Runes,” Donnie answers, pointing at a different leaflet as he names each subject. Dudley picks the nearest to him and reads it.

“’Would you like to tend to creatures like hippogriffs, unicorns and fire crabs? Then Care of Magical Creatures is for you!’ This one sounds fun,” Dudley says, wondering what a unicorn would look like in real life. Maybe not pink and blue like bakeries and coffee shops seem to insist.

“Everyone says it’s the class to take, but I’m not so sure,” Donnie shrugs, “so far I’m only sure about Arithmancy because I like maths. I still need to pick one more, though.”

“What about Divination?” Dudley asks, picking another leaflet.

“I dunno, a lot of people say it’s just make-believe, like, most wizards don’t even believe it’s real, so I’m not sure. Study of Ancient Runes and Magical Healing both sound boring to me, but I’m not sure Care of Magical Creatures is the right choice for me. You know I’m not the outdoorsy type,” Donnie says.

“Well, if it appeals to you more than the others, why not? It could be a fun new experience, plus, everyone says it’s the class to take, right? What classes did your cousins pick?”

“They all picked Care of Magical Creatures and they seem to like it, but they’re a lot more adventurous than I am,” Donnie replies.

“Who says you can’t be adventurous?” Dudley asks.

“I dunno,” Donnie shrugs, “I’m just not.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Not two years ago you were ready to go to Smeltings and look at you know: going to magic school, riding brooms, casting Disarming Charms,” Dudley points out.

“Those aren’t really adventurous things when you are at Hogwarts, dad,” Donnie laughs.

“I suppose they’re not,” Dudley concedes with a small chuckle, “but it was still new stuff for you, wasn’t it? Now it’s as normal as breathing for you. So, maybe you should take that class, if the only thing stopping you is that it’s something new.”

“I guess …” Donnie says, still not convinced.

“Do you have to choose right now?” Dudley asks.

“Nah, we have until after Easter,” Donnie replies, relief clear in his voice.

“You’ve still got time, then. But if you think that class sounds fun, why not?”

“I guess you’re right,” Donnie agrees. He looks much more at ease now, and his eyes keep darting to the leaflet on Care of Magical Creatures with curiosity. The sight warms Dudley more than he can put into words.

 

The Dursleys learn that setting up a new business is easier when you hire wizard contractors. By February Jennifer is already ordering the tables and chairs she’ll furnish her coffee shop with. She gets them from a muggle store, and Harry suggests to have them delivered at his house in number 12 Grimmauld Place, which Dudley learns is the house Harry uses whenever he needs to do business in London.

The house is empty, but has some furniture in it, and every inch of it is clean and well maintained. It does, however, look gloomier than the house Harry took him to in Godric’s Hollow.

“So, this is the house you …” Dudley begins to say as they wait for their delivery to arrive.

“Inherited? Yeah,” Harry says, looking wistfully at the walls.

“How come you don’t live here?” Dudley inquires.

“Too many memories, I guess,” Harry shrugs, “this place used to be our headquarters during the war. Plus, my parents lived at Godric’s Hollow when they died, and I guess that’s the place where I always dreamed of starting a family.”

A muggle delivery truck arrives outside and Dudley and Harry go out to meet it. The delivery guys unload a large cargo of several chairs, stools and tables and place them in the middle of the house’s empty living room. Though Dudley is aware they couldn’t have the muggles deliver the furniture right in Diagon Alley, he does wonder how they’re going to take all that to the coffee shop. Harry doesn’t seem concerned, though.

“Wanna see something neat?” Harry asks him wiggling his eyebrows after the delivery guys leave. He then opens an old suitcase, places it in the middle of the living room and looks up at Dudley with a grin.

“Ooookay …” Dudley says doubtfully, knowing full well he’s about to see some kind of display of magic, probably more complex than what he’s used to see.

Harry lifts his wand and silently points it at the tables and chairs scattered throughout the room. With a yelp of surprise, Dudley sees how every piece of furniture starts hovering above the floor and flies straight into the open suitcase, which seems to have no problem holding everything inside. After the last piece of furniture is shoved into it, the suitcase closes shut.

“Wow,” is all Dudley is able to utter.

“Undetectable Extension Charm,” Harry says with a grin as he picks the suitcase from the floor like it’s not carrying an entire coffee shop’s furniture inside, “and this was nothing, you should see Hermione’s handbag.”

Dudley stares perplexed at the suitcase.

“You were right, that is something neat,” he says.

“I know, right?” Harry smiles, “come on, let’s take this to Diagon Alley,” he adds, but Dudley doesn’t move from where he’s standing, suddenly feeling very troubled. “Dudley?”

“Why are you helping us so much?” Dudley blurts before he can stop himself, “and don’t say it’s because it’s the right thing to do or something. I get you’ve moved past everything I did to you when we were kids, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did those things.”

“Dudley,” Harry says softly as he places the suitcase back on the floor and approaches him cautiously, like Dudley is some frightened animal, which is not all that inaccurate, “there was a war. What I said to Vernon the other day, that he wasn’t the worst I’ve faced, I wasn’t lying. I’ve seen a lot worse, and I’ve seen people come back up from worse too.”

“I don’t understand,” Dudley mumbles.

“Yes, you were, well, pretty bad back then, but you were a kid and you didn’t know better and then you did know better and worked hard to improve yourself, and I have a lot of respect for that. I’ve known people that had a lifetime to change and simply choose not to, and I’ve seen people doing everything they can to be a better person for their kids. You are among those, and I can’t turn my back on that. I am a father too, you know,” Harry explains.

“You — you really think that?” Dudley mumbles.

“I really do, Dudley, I see how you are with Donnie and Britt, and the very fact that you are trying to adjust everything you were taught to believe just so you can be a better father to them, that lets me know you deserve to be forgiven … mostly by yourself.”

Dudley can’t help to laugh at Harry’s last words.

“Do you and Jennifer get together to plan what you’re going to say to me?” he jokes.

“You should listen to your wife, she’s very smart,” Harry replies fondly.

“Yeah, she is,” Dudley agrees.

“Now, come on, let’s get this over to her,” Harry says, taking the suitcase from the floor and Dudley follows him out the door. He’s thankful they’re heading to Diagon Alley on foot, as he really doesn’t fancy Harry apparating him again. As they walk through the hectic crowd, another question occurs to Dudley.

“That thing you said about you seeing people come up from worse,” he says tentatively, “were you talking about Draco Malfoy?” Harry turns to him with an impressed raised eyebrow. “I mean, the last name appears several times in the book on the War Jennifer bought, and I wondered …”

“If it was the same Malfoy family you met at King’s Cross?” Harry finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

“Draco was in my year at Hogwarts. Not unlike you, he’d been taught to hate a certain type of people, and not unlike you he grew out of that, mostly for his son,” Harry explains.

“So you don’t mind your son and his getting close,” Dudley inquires.

“Not in the least,” Harry declares.

“Well, that’s … that’s good,” Dudley mumbles.

“Why do you ask?” Harry asks him, curious.

“It’s nothing really,” Dudley says, suddenly realising it wasn’t the best of ideas to bring that subject up and trying nervously to come up with another subject to talk about.

“Oh, come on, what is it?” Harry prods, “oh, wait, is it that Al and Scorpius are in love with each other?”

“I didn’t want to say anything in case you hadn’t noticed,” Dudley replies.

“Oh, I have, and if I did, it means it was pretty obvious in the first place,” Harry chuckles.

“It wasn’t like I noticed, really, it was Jen. Remember the time they filmed Donnie’s Flying lesson? Well, when I showed her the video, after she was done freaking out about seeing Donnie on a broom she turned to me, pointed to the screen and said ‘those two clearly have a thing for each other’,” Dudley recounts and Harry bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, those two are getting close,” Harry concedes, “when they’ll stop dancing around each other and get their act together is anyone’s guess. James is all for locking them inside an empty classroom and not letting them out until they snog.”

“So you really don’t mind?” Dudley asks.

“If there’s anyone I would trust with Al, is Scorpius Malfoy, so no, not in the least,” Harry answers.

“You really are a forgiving bloke, you know that?” Dudley tells him.

“Kids are not their parents,” Harry shrugs as they both make a turn to the street where The Leaky Cauldron stands, “and Draco is a pretty decent bloke nowadays … and so are you.”

Dudley knows it’ll take him some time to believe that, no matter how often Jennifer and Harry reassure him of it, but if anything, he thinks as they make their way inside The Leaky Cauldron, he knows he’s taking the steps in the right direction.

 

The months leading up to the end of the school year are hectic for Dudley and Jennifer. Though Hermione Granger helps expedite things a lot Jennifer still faces some resistance trying to get all the paperwork for her business over with. The goblins at Gringotts are particularly unhelpful, even if they did agree to let her open an account, mostly because there was no law they could use to stop her.

Another obstacle becomes the wizarding press, which the Dursleys learn can be as alarmist and sensationalist as its muggle counterpart. A story titled “Muggle woman attempts to open a shop in Diagon Alley” is followed by a column whose headline read “Is the wizarding world ready for a muggle-run business in the heart of Diagon Alley?”; both detailing how unheard-of Jennifer’s enterprise was.

Support came unexpectedly as news of the scandalous muggle businesswoman reached Hogwarts. Donnie and Brittany detail in their letters how they were swarmed by dozens of muggle-borns that were, along with their parents, interested in the prospect of a place were muggle relatives could gather in the heart of Wizarding London. According to Donnie and Britt, several parents had already sent owls to _The Daily Prophet_ to express that yes, it was time for a muggle-operated business in the wizarding world.

“That just shows us how much we still have to go in the way of inclusion,” Hermione tells Dudley and Jennifer one day as they sit inside their still empty coffee shop and flip through the pages of a wizarding publication they hadn’t heard of before named _The Quibbler_. Most of the letters from muggle parents never saw the light on _The Prophet_ but _The Quibbler_ did print some of them. Though some of the contents of the eccentric tabloid give Dudley some pause about how much help that actually is.

“Well, the paperwork is almost done, most of the permits are now in order, so maybe we won’t face much trouble now,” Jennifer comments.

“I am glad to hear that,” Hermione says, “I better get going anyways, the amount of paperwork waiting for me at the Ministry almost makes me wish I was seventeen and on the run again.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Jennifer laughs, “thank you for all your help, Hermione.”

“It’s been my pleasure. I’ll be happy to see this place inaugurated,” Hermione replies as she walks out of the coffee shop. Jennifer watches her leave before turning back to her husband who is reading the letters printed on _The Quibbler_ with his brow furrowed.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Jennifer points out.

“How much resistance do you think we’re gonna face once this place is open?” Dudley asks her.

“I don’t know, from what Donnie and Britt tell us, we can expect a fairly big clientele,” Jennifer answers, “though I don’t want to get ahead of myself. A lot of perfectly sound businesses fail to make profit and have to close for a number of reasons, specially in the food and drinks business.”

“Well I hope this makes a profit and soon, because I am honestly not sure of how much I’ll last at Grunnings,” Dudley grunts.

“What do you mean?” Jennifer asks.

“Dad’s been making my life difficult there, more than usual. I think he believes if he bullies me enough he can twist my arm into pulling the kids out of Hogwarts,” Dudley explains.

“Do you think you could get fired?” Jennifer asks concerned.

“I’m starting to fear that, yeah,” Dudley admits, “and I basically got that job because of him, I don’t know how easy it would be for me to find another one,” he adds, his face burning up as it does every time his lack of qualifications comes up in a conversation. Once upon a time he felt so proud of never cracking a book open or studying for anything, just cornering some scared bookworm and having him do his homework instead. Now, though, those memories only bring him shame.

“You still have years of experience as a sales director, no-one can take that from you, so if it comes to that, you will capitalise on that experience and get a new job somewhere else. If it doesn’t come to that, though …”

“What?” Dudley asks.

“Well, you always talked about going back to college some day, maybe going into some Physical Education program,” Jennifer reminds him. Dudley shrugs.

“I suppose, if the business takes off …” The truth is, a part of him always harboured the dream of being a P. E. teacher, or maybe a boxing coach. He’s always known he’s better at working with his hands that with his mind, but also somewhere in his head that sounded like a path to redemption, though he doesn’t like to dwell on those thoughts for too long.

“It will take off, and you’ll quit Grunnings, tell your father where he can stuff his bigotry, hopefully with a rather rude hand gesture, and then you’ll go back to college and do something you actually like,” Jennifer assures him, and her voice sounds so confident that for some precious instants, there alone with her in the middle of a still empty coffee shop, he can’t do anything but allow himself to believe it.

 

The end of the school year arrives and Dudley and Jennifer are back at King’s Cross to pick up their kids for the summer. The coffee shop’s grand opening is only a few weeks away, as Jennifer wants to do it right when everyone will be shopping for school supplies. The Dursleys join the crowd made up of Potters, Weasleys, Malfoys and Scamanders. They greet Hermione merrily and wait for the scarlet machine to arrive at the station.

Donnie is among the first to come out of the train when it finally appears on the platform, sandwiched between the couple of twins that seem to have taken him under their wing (“Their grandpa prints _The Quibbler_!” Donnie had told Dudley excitedly).

“How’s it going champ?” Dudley asks after the twins have left to meet their parents, “a good second year?”

“Merlin, yes!” Donnie exclaims, and Dudley finds his son adopting the popular wizarding expression doesn’t surprise him anymore.

“Good to hear,” he says.

“And guess what? I did sign up for Care of Magical Creatures, along with Arithmancy, of course,” Donnie tells him excitedly.

“You sound excited about that,” Dudley says.

“You know, what, I kind of am,” Donnie admits, grinning from ear to ear.

“Good to know,” Dudley replies as he ruffles his son’s hair, “now, where’s your sister?”

Donnie cocks his head towards a loud crowd of first-years, all clad in red and gold, with Brittany happily laughing right in the middle of them. Harry once told Dudley that the Gryffindor House was famous for being loud and rambunctious, and Donnie had said so too in several of his letters; now Dudley can see they were not wrong.

At last, Brittany says goodbye to her friends and joins her family in the platform. Dudley thinks happy doesn’t even begin to describe the way she looks. Ecstatic, maybe, or radiant. Mostly, she looks like herself. Dudley sort of wishes her grandparents could see her right now.

“Ready to go, Britt?” he asks.

“Yes. And I can’t wait to hear all about mom’s coffee shop. Is it true it’s only selling muggle pastries and drinks?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Jennifer confirms.

“Novelty products are known to produce more money even if their production cost is cheaper,” Donnie chimes in.

“That was the logic I used,” Jennifer agrees.

“I can’t wait to see it in person,” Brittany says excitedly.

“I told all my friends about the grand opening in August,” Donnie adds, “they can’t wait to see it either.”

“Looks like we don’t have anything to worry about then,” Dudley says, “the place will be swarming in a few weeks.”

“Looks like it,” Jennifer agrees as the four of them arrive to the barrier.

The muggle side of King’s Cross station is empty of hateful relatives or unexpected surprises this year, but Dudley’s not thinking about that, nor is the rest of his family. Donnie and Brittany are bombarding their mother with questions and she can barely answer one before the next one comes in. Dudley smiles. They don’t know yet if this new business is going to take off, but something inside him whispers that it will, and then he’ll be able to leave Grunnings behind, go back to college, they’ll maybe even leave Little Whinging. For the first time in a lot of time, Dudley allows his imagination to run wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cliffhanger this time, I decided to take it easy on you guys. :P
> 
> The idea for the Ravenclaw riddle came from a fic I read where the Transfiguration teacher asked the students to turn a brick into a chocolate bar and only Scorpius could do it, deducing the brick was actually a transfigured chocolate bar, and all he did was transfigure it back. I have no clue what fic it was, I've been looking for it and I can't find it. If anybody knows, let me know so I can properly credit the author of that mind puzzle.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All your feedback is greatly appreciated! :D


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